LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



THE ATHENy^UM PRESS SERIES 

G. L. KITTREDGE AND C. T. WINCHESTER 

GENERAL EDITORS 



Btbena:um press Series. 

This series is intended to furnish a 
Hbrary of the best EngHsh Hterature 
from Chaucer to the present time in a 
form adapted to the needs of both the 
student and the general reader. The 
works selected are carefully edited, with 
biographical and critical introductions, 
full explanatory notes, and other neces- 
sary apparatus. 



atbenaum press Secies 
A BOOK OF 

SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 
LYRICS 



Selected and Edited with an Introduction 

BY 

FELIX E. SCHELLING 

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE 
UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA 



BOSTON, U.S.A. 
GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 

CI)e 9ltl)enjeum JJrcfifi 

1899 



T^A^O COPIES RECEIVED, 

Library of Congretl^ 
Office of th« 

N0V2g1«Q9 

«egl«t«r of Copyrlghff, 



t^^tV 



47696 

Copyright, 1899 
By FELIX E. SCHELLING 



AKL RIGHTS RESERVED 



SECOND COPY* 






PREFACE. 



This book is made up of English lyrics which fall between 
the years 1625 and 1700. The first quarter of the seven- 
teenth century is here unrepresented, because the lyrical 
poetry, like most other kinds of literature of that period, 
was produced under impulses and maintained by traditions 
almost wholly Elizabethan. The method pursued in the 
selection and arrangement of the poems constituting this 
book is much that of the editor's Elizabethan Lyrics. Some 
poems have been retained, the exclusion of which a stand- 
ard of the highest literary and poetic worth might demand. 
This is justified by a recognition of the fact that a book such 
as this must be, to a certain extent, historically representa- 
tive. The same requirement has prompted a rigid adherence 
to chronological order in the arrangemeat of material and to 
the rule that no poem shall appear except in its completeness 
and in that form in which it may reasonably be supposed to 
have had its author's maturest revision. The term lyric has 
necessarily been interpreted with some liberality in the con- 
sideration of a period which tended, towards its close, to the 
conscious exercise of artifice and wit in poetry rather than 
to the spontaneous expression of emotion. If Mr. Henley's 
recent enunciation of the essential antithesis between the 
lyric and the epigram is to be accepted in its rigor, many of 
the poems of this collection must fall under his ban.^ And 

1 See the Introduction to Mr. Henley's collection of English Lyrics. 

V 



vi PREFACE. 

yet much might be said — -were this the place for it — of the 
lyrical quality which frequently accompanies even the cynical 
gallantry and coxcombry of Suckling, Sedley, and Rochester. 
If poems such as many of theirs and of Dryden's be excluded 
from the category of the lyric on the score of artificiality or 
insincerity, they must assuredly be restored to their place for 
the power of music in them. 

The poems in this book have been selected, not only from 
the works of the individual poets represented, but from con- 
temporary poetical miscellanies and from the incidental lyr- 
ical verse contained in dramas, romances, and other works of 
the time. Care has been taken to make the text as correct 
as possible by a collation with authoritative sources ; and, 
wherever necessary, the sources of preferred readings will 
be found mentioned in the Notes. In the Introduction an 
attempt has been made to trace the course of English lyrical 
poetry during the period, to explain its relations to the pre- 
vious age, and to trace the influences which determined its 
development and its final change of character. It is hoped 
that the Notes and Indexes may furnish the reader with such 
help as he may reasonably demand, and encourage the stu- 
dent to a deeper study of a rich and interesting period in 
one of its most distinctive forms of artistic expression. 

In conclusion, I wish to record my recognition of a few 
amongst many favors. My acknowledgments are due here, 
as ever, to Dr. Horace Howard Furness for the loan of books 
and for much kind encouragement ; to Dr. Clarence G. Child, 
especially amongst my colleagues, for valuable suggestions 
and many services ; and above all to Professor Kittredge, 
one of the general editors of this series, whose wide learning 
and untiring care have been generously bestowed to better 
this book. 

FELIX E. SCHELLING. 

June i6, 1899. 



CONTENTS. 

PAGES 

Introduction . . : ix-lxix 

Seventeenth Century Lyrics 1-227 

Notes 229-287 

Index of Authors and Editors 289-297 

Index of First Lines 299-304 

Index to Introduction and Notes 305-314 



INTRODUCTION. 



THE ENGLISH LYRIC OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.i 

I. 

In the Introduction to A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics I 
have said that " not the least merit of EUzabethan litera- 
ture, defining both words strictly, is its soundness and its 
health ; its very lapses from decorum are those of childhood, 
and its extravagances those of youth and heated blood, both 
as far as possible removed from the cold cynicism, the doubt 
of man and God, that crept into England in the train of 
King James, and came in time to chill and benumb the 
pulses of the nation."^ 

This statement I believe to be strictly and literally true, 
though it may here need some explanation. There was both 
crime and wickedness in Elizabeth's day ; there was virtue 
and nobility of life in the days of James. But a cleavage 
between art and morals had come about early in the seven- 
teenth century, if indeed not before; the Renaissance, now 
somewhat spent and losing in freshness and virility, threw 
off its former alliance with the rude but wholesome ethical 
spirit which animated the drama during the lifetime of 

1 The reader is referred to the earlier paragraphs of the Introduction 
to the editor's A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics for a general discussion of 
the nature and limitations of the term lyric. 



X INTR OD UC TIOiV. 

Shakespeare, and contracted from a broad humanitarian 
love of art as an imitation of the whole range of human 
action and emotion into the narrower, if choicer, spirit of 
the dilettante, whose taste in trifles is perfect, whose joy is 
not a little in the skill and cleverness of the artist, whose 
range for art, in a word, is contracted within the limits of 
good society. On the other hand, the moral aspect of the 
world was not lost, although it seemed all but lost to litera- 
ture for a time. Any statement that the complex of moral, 
religious, and political agencies which is loosely called Puri- 
tanism was an unmixed evil to literature is wide of the truth. 
The marvellously rich devotional poetry of the period, a 
poetry which knew no sect and existed the common posses- 
sion of Romanist, Churchman, and Dissenter, is alone a 
sufficient refutation of such an opinion. Still that spirit 
which translated the JQys of the world into vanities and 
denounced the most innocent show of human emotion as 
the lust of the flesh and the temptation of the devil with- 
drew itself apart and lived alone in later forms of Puri- 
tanism, which became stern and austere, unmollified by 
grace and unsweetened with charity. 

Nothing could better illustrate the essential relation which 
exists in art between truth and that typical presentation of 
nature which we somewhat inaccurately call beauty, than 
the history of English poetry in the seventeenth century, 
especially the history of the lyric, always that form of poetry 
most sensitive to the subtler influences of an age. Moreover, 
whatever fastidious literary taste may prefer, the student of 
literature must beware of generalizations formed on anything 
short of a consideration of all the literary phenomena at 
hand. Perversions of art have their lesson for the historian 
of literature, and must be considered if the picture is to be 
true. Thus we must recognize, not only the rhetorical and 
" metaphysical " excesses of lesser and later Donnians, but 



INTR on UC TIOJV. xi 

the extraordinary stripping off of the gauds and ornaments 
of poetic diction which marks the work of Wither when he 
leaves the praises of Fair Virtue to sing hymns of diviner 
praise. No less must we take into account that one of the 
most remarkable and artistically perfect poems of Carew is 
unquotable to-day ; whilst it was not a mere following of the 
bad example which his master, Jon son, had set him in trans- 
lating some of the more objectionable epigrams of Martial, 
which has given us, in Herrick, a garden of the Hesperides 
foul in places with the filth of the kennel. These things 
are not wholly to be laid to the score of coarse or unrestrained 
manners. The root of the matter is in this separation of the 
ethical from the aesthetic principle, a separation which pro- 
duced in the one case the moral, but for the most part unillu- 
mined, verses of Quarles and Wither, and, in the other (with 
V much that was an aberration from both ethical and aesthetic 
ideals), the perfect Hedonistic lyrics of Carew and Herrick, ^ 
which exist for their beauty and for their beauty alone. 

To consider the cult of beauty as a new thing in the poetry 
of any period would be as absurd as to assume, by the 
extension of a doctrine attributed by Walter Bagehot to 
Ulrici, a concealed and deadly moral purpose for*each and 
every poem of the earlier age.^ But if we will turn to the 
poetry of Spenser, Jonson, Donne, and Shakespeare we shall 
find it informed with an element of truth, whether half 
concealed in allegory, didactically paraded, intellectually 
subtilized, or set forth in an unerring justness of conception 
as to the dramatic relations of men to men. This we do 
not find in nearly an equal degree in the poetry of the 
succeeding age, and the ideals of such a poet as Carew -^ to 
take the most successful of his class — become much the same 
as those of the school which in our own day has given rise / 
to the phrase ''art for art's sake," a school accompanying 

1 Shakespeare, Literary Studies, I, 169. 



xii INTR OD UC TION. 

whose aesthetic posturings we sooner or later behold the 
cynical leer of satire. Take the following : 

If when the sun at noon displays 

His brighter rays, 

Thou but appear, 
He then, all pale with shame and fear, 

Ouencheth his light. 
Hides his dark brow, flies from thy sight 

And grows more dim 
Compared to thee than stars to him. 
If thou but show thy face again 
When darkness doth at midnight reign, 
The darkness flies, and light is hurled 
Round about the silent world : 
So as alike thou driv'st away 
Both light and darkness, night and day.^ 

This is beautiful and fanciful poetry. It is hyperbolic to 
a degree, so much so that we feel it to be no more than 
a figure of gallantry, the charming and perfectly expressed 
compliment of a courtly gentleman to a high-born and radiant 
beauty. In a poem of this kind we are not concerned with 
the truth ; indeed the truth might perhaps spoil the effect. 
There is nothing new in the idea, but the artist has daintily 
set it like a gem in the filigree of a carefully considered 
comparison. Romeo, under the quickening influence of a 
new and all-consuming passion, forged the same thought into 
a pregnant metaphor : 

What light through yonder window breaks? 
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! 
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon. 
Who is already sick and pale with grief. 
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.^ 

1 Poems of Thomas Carew, reprint of ed. 1640, Edinburgh, 1824, p. 8. 

2 ii. 2. 2. 



INTRODUCTION. xiii 

The hyperbole of Romeo is justified by the overwrought 
emotion of the moment ; it stirs in the hearer a sympathy 
with the lover's passion. The hyperbole of Carew is no less 
justified, for it, too, arrives at its purpose, which is no more*' 
than to amuse. There is about it, from its very extravagance, 
a suspicion of delicate raillery, which becomes certain when 
the poet leaves us at the end with a charming paradox. She 
would have been but an unsophisticated maiden at court 
who could have taken such a fine compliment from the king's ^ 
cupbearer to figure forth anything more than " How pretty 
you 're looking this morning, my dear ! " . 

" The artifice and machinery of rhetoric," says De Quincey, 
"furnishes in its degree as legitimate a basis for intellectual 
pleasure as any other; that the pleasure is of an inferior 
order, can no more attaint the idea or model of the compo- 
sition, than it can impeach the excellence of an epigram that 
it is not a tragedy. Every species of composition is to be 
tried by its own laws."^ The much-vaunted test of com- 
parison, by which Byron set beside Keats or Shelley appears 
tawdry or uninspired, is often preposterously misleading. 
There are reds that " kill " each other, though each may 
be beautiful apart ; the mood in which to read Horace may 
not be precisely the mood for Catullus. In the seventeenth^ 
century lyric and its overflow into the occasional verse of 
the day we have neither the universality of Shakespeare, 
the scope and majesty of Milton, nor the consummate con- 
structive, if conventionalized, art of Dryden and Pope ; and 
yet there are some of us who feel that we could no more 
spare the dainty grace and beauty of Coriiina's Going A-May- 
ing than we could endure to lose a book of Paradise Lost. 
To critics of the nature of William Hazlitt, in those unlucid 
intervals in which his prejudices stood all on end, such poets 
as Carew or Suckling are " delicate court triflers " and noth- 

^ Rhetoric^ Historical Essays^ II, 229. 



IXTRODUCTION. 



ing more; to those who love the art of an intaglio or the deli-^ 
cate curves of a Grecian urn, and can admire either \vithout| 
stricture that it is not the Capitoline Jupiter, the best of thai 
poetry of the reign of Charles I seems to imply no decaying! 
school, but a height of lyric excellence combined with an \ 
exquisite workmanship which only the greatest poets of our 
day or of EHzabeth's have surpassed. , 

In its general characteristics the poetry of the seventeenth \ 
century, extending onward from the accession of Charles I, j \ 
is intensive rather than expansive, fanciful rather than imagi- !/ 
native, and increasingly restrictive in its range and appeal, 
until it comes at length to be the utterance of a single class 
of society. 

The period in its earlier years was too close to that 
of Elizabeth and James not to feel the strong pulse and 
enthusiastic love of beauty which was theirs, and the great 
political events that made the seventeenth one of the most 
momentous centuries in the history of England kept men 
from falling too rapidly into the conventionalized conception 
of literature and life which came to prevail in the next cen- 
tury. It is precisely as we find a poet rising above these 
general qualities of narrow intensiveness, fantasticality of 
thought and expression, and class prejudice, that we recog- 
nize in him the special qualities that make him great. The 
aesthetic Milton, with the rich blood of the Renaissance 
tingling in his veins, bursts forth in the fine Ode on the 
Morning of Chrisfs Nativity and in the great "poetry which 
followed it. In his later poetical period too, it is his lofty 
artistic purpose and his ethical nobility which lift Milton out 
of his own time and convert him into a world poet, despite 
a certain hardness of spirit which bitter partizanship had 
fostered and which could not but grow out of the warring 
elements of his age in a nature so grave and stern. Thus 
again, a genuine love of nature unites such diverse names- 



INTR on UC TION. x v 

as those of Vaughan, Marvell, and Cotton, the last especially 
delighting in the sensuous enjoyment of pleasant sight and 
soothing sound. In Marvell is added to an artistic touch 
a moral rectitude that at once dignifies his poetry and gives 
it a distinguished place in literature ; whilst Vaughan, added 
to a religious fervor which he shares with Herbert and 
Crashaw, but in differing mode, displays, in his tenderness 
for natural objects, a spiritual contemplativeness which every 
now and then flashes a revealing light upon the relation of 
man to the universe. Herrick, in his humaneness, in his 
artless delight in those small things which go so far to make 
up our daily life, Carew, in the sincerity of his workmanship 
and in his artistic propriety, rise above the temporary con- 
ventions of a single age, and become, each in his own way, 
poets fraught with a message to following times. 

II. 

That the poets of the reigns of James and Charles I wrote 
^ under the combined influences of Ben Jonson and Donne, and 
that the older influence of Spenser continued to animate poet 
after poet, has been repeated again and again, and may be 
accepted as substantially true. It seems well, under the 
circumstances, briefly to consider wherein these influences 
really consisted, less in their abstract principles than in the 
manner in which the ideals of each great poet manifested 
themselves in his work, and especially in their subsequent 
effects on his followers. What may be called the manner 
of Spenser (i.e., Spenser's way of imitating and interpreting 
nature artistically by means of poetic expression) may be 
summarized as consisting of a sensuous love of beauty com- 
bined with a power of elaborated pictorial representation, a 
use of classical imagery for decorative effect, a fondness for 
melody, a flowing sweetness, naturalness and continuousness 



X vi INTR on uc riON. 

of diction amounting to diffuseness at times, the diffuseness 
of a fragrant, beautiful, flowering vine. We may say of the 
poets that employ this manner that they are worshippers of 
beauty rather than students of beauty's laws ; ornate in their 
expression of the type, dwelling on detail in thought and 
image lovingly elaborated and sweetly prolonged. To such 
artists it is no matter if a play have five acts or twenty-five, 
if an epic ever come to an end, or if consistency of parts 
exist; rapt in the joy of gentle onward motion, in the ele- 
vation of pure poetic thought, even the subject ceases to be 
of much import, if it but furnish the channel in which the 
bright, limpid liquid continues musically to flow. 

Besides his pastorals, Drayton Spenserized the enormous 
Polyolbion. The Fletchers followed with subjects theological 
and anatomical also allegorized after the manner of Spenser. 
But the poetry of none of these need concern us here : not 
even the beautiful later pastorals of Wither and Browne. 
For, Drayton aside, the last two poets are the only followers 
of Spenser who have achieved the unity and repression of 
a successful lyric ; and by the accession of King Charles, 
Browne had ceased to write, and Wither had already straggled 
off into his innumerable devotional pamphlets, verse and 
prose, in which were much fibre and many tendrils, but little 
bloom. In the period with which this book is concerned 
the direct influence of Spenser is chiefly to be found in 
the earlier poetry of Milton, which, despite its remarkable 
originality and the traces of other influences than this, ex- 
hibits in the main the distinctive " notes " of Spenserianism, 
restrained by a chaster taste and by a spirit profoundly 
imbued with the classics. 

As Milton is chief amongst the poets included in this 
book, it cannot be wide of our purpose to stop in our dis- 
cussion to consider these Spenserian " notes " in his earlier 
poetry. Take the following : 



INTR on UC TION. xvil 

Gejiius. Stay, gentle swains, for, though in this disguise, 
I see bright honor sparkle through your eyes ; 
Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung 
Of that renowned flood, so often sung, 
Divine Alpheus, who, by secret sluice, 
Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse ; 
And ye, the breathing roses of the wood, 
Fair silver-buskined Nymphs, as great and good. 
I know this quest of yours and free intent 
Was all in honor and devotion meant 
To the great mistress of yon princely shrine, 
Whom with low reverence I adore as mine. 
And with all helpful service will comply 
To further this night's glad solemnity. 
And lead ye where ye may more near behold 
What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold; 
Which I full oft, amidst these shades alone. 
Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon. 

This is early work of Milton and exhibits nearly every one 
of the "notes" mentioned above, — sweetness, melody, nat- 
uralness, continuousness in metre and sense, personification : 
"What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold"; classical 
allusion : Arcady, Alpheus, Arethusa, " Fair silver-buskined 
Nymphs." A use of nature for decorative effect pervades 
the whole passage. For pictorial vividness, in which how- 
ever Milton never surpassed his master, we must look to 
other passages. A more striking example of some of these 
qualities of Milton's earlier poetry will be found in the famous 
song from Comtis, Sabrinafairi^. 38, below, vv.9-32), wherein 
we have almost a complete list of the ancient deities of the 
sea from "great Oceanus " to "fair Ligea's golden comb." 
Some of the allusions of this song (e.g., " the Carpathian wiz- 
ard's hook " y we may suspect were not altogether luminous 
to the casual reader of Milton's own day, despite his " greater 

1 See note on this passage, p. 243, below. 



xviii INTRODUCTION. 

wont " in the classics. Milton's evident delight in passages 
such as this is made up of two elements : first, a sensuous 
love of musical sound, the mingled charm of sonorous classi- 
cal words and their unusual effect in the contrast of their 
English setting ; and, secondly, the scholar's satisfaction — 
pedantic in a lesser man — in lavishing his learning on 
his verse : for Milton possessed to the full the scholar's 
consciousness in the practice of his art. In view of the 
rhetorical finish of Milton's poetry, and the high sense of 
constructiveness which informs his work in even its appar- 
ently most unpremeditated flights, especially in view of the 
carefully wrought and subtly varied cadences of his blank 
verse, I do not feel certain that the customary classification 
of Milton with the poets of the past age, rather than with 
his actual contemporaries, is a classification wholly to be 
justified. 

If now we turn to the poetry of Ben Jonson, more espe- 
cially to his lyrical verse, the first thing that we note is a 
sense of form, not merely in detail and transition like the 
" links . . . bright and even " of The Faery Queen, but a sense 
of the entire poem in its relation to its parts. This sense 
involves brevity and condensity of expression, a feeling on 
the part of the poet that the effect maybe spoiled by a word 
too much — a feeling which no true Spenserian ever knew. 
There is about this poetry a sense of finish rather than of 
elaboration ; it is less continuous than complete ; more con- 
centrated, less diffuse ; chaste rather than florid ; controlled, 
and yet not always less spontaneous ; reserved, and yet not 
always less natural. There are other things to note in the 
Jonsonian manner. It retained classical allusion less for the 
sake of embellishment than as an atmosphere — to borrow 
a term from the nomenclature of art. Its drafts upon ancient 
mythology become allusive, and the effects produced by Hor- 
ace, Catullus, or Anacreon are essayed in reproduction under 



INTRODUCTION. xix 

English conditions. Not less eager in the pursuit of beauty \ 
than the Spenserian, the manner of Jonson seeks to realize ; 
her perfections by means of constructive excellence, not by 
entranced passion. It concerns itself with choiceness in 
diction, selectiveness in style, with the repression of wander- , 
ing ideas and loosely conceived figures — in a word, the 
manner of Jonson involves classicality. 

Into the nature of the poetry of Donne I need not enter 
at length here. It is sufficient for our purposes to remember 
that the tokens of the presence of Donne consist in an exces- 
sive subjectivity that involves at times all but a total oblivion 
to the forms of the outward, visible world ; a disregard of 
the tried and conventional imagery and classical reference 
of the day, and the substitution for it of images of abstrac- 
tion derived from contemporary philosophy and science ; an 
habitual transmutation of emotion into terms of the intellect ; 
and an analytic presentation and handling of theme, involv- 
ing great rhetorical, and at times dialectic skill. To these 
qualities must be added a successful inventive ingenuity in 
the device of metrical effects, which despised tradition ; and, 
most important of all, a power in dealing with the abstract 
relations of things which raises Donne, in his possession of 
the rare quality, poetic insight, at times to a poet of the first 
order. 

Thus we find Spenser and Jonson standing as exponents, / 
respectively, of the expansive or romantic movement and the 
repressive or classical spirit. In a different line of distinc- 
tion Donne is equally in contrast with Spenser, as the inten- 
sive or subjective artist. Both are romanticists, in that each 
seeks to produce the effect demanded of art by means of an 
appeal to the sense of novelty ; but Spenser's romanticism is 
that of selection, which choo!^es from the outer world the 
fitting and the pleasing and coJy|||£ts it into a permanent 
artistic joy; Donne's is the roil^^icism of insight, which, 



J 



XX INTRODUCTJOiV. 

looking inward, descries the subtle relations of things and 
transfigures them with a sudden and unexpected flood of 
light. Between Jonson and Donne there is the kinship 
of intellectuality ; between Spenser and Donne the kinship 
of romanticism ; between Spenser and Jonson the kinship of 
the poet's joy in beauty. Spenser is the most objective, and 
therefore allegorical and at times mystical; Jonson is the 
most artistic, and therefore the most logical ; Donne is the 
most subjective and the most spiritual. 



III. 

In the year 1625 many traces of the poetry of the last cen- 
tury remained, especially in the lyric. The impetus which 
had been given by Lyly and Shakespeare to the writing of 
lyrical verse to be set to music in the incidental songs of the 
drama continued in the dramatists Dekker, Fletcher, Mas- 
singer, and Jonson himself. All carried on their own earlier 
practice, Ford and Shirley following. These last two poets 
have left lyrics scarcely less beautiful than the best of the 
earlier age ; whilst not a few of the minor playwrights, 
Thomas May, Thomas Goffe, Richard Brome, Thomas Ran- 
dolph, even Aurelian Townsend, have reached distinction in 
individual instances. The popularity of song books contin- 
ued throughout the century, but we have no work in this field 
approaching the poetry of Campion. The general character 
of collections such as his, which offered original words with 
original music, was maintained in the various works of Wil- 
son, Henry and William Lawes, Lanier, Playford, D'Urfey, 
and many others. The poetical miscellany held its popu- 
larity in collections of very mixed quality, from sacred or 
secular lyrical poetry to the satirical broadside or book of 
jests and coarse epigra^|^^ Some of these books contain 



9 



gleanings from the bes^p^ts of the day, but the general 



INTR on UC TIOiV. XXI 

quality of the lyrical poetry therein is far inferior to similar 
productions in the preceding reigns, as the popular taste had 
turned from sentiment and poetry to the wit and ribaldry of 
the tavern.^ 

At the accession of Charles, Ben Jonson had twelve years . 
yet to live ; and, although his best work was now done, his 
position as the great literary dictator, with the added sanc- 
tion of court patronage, produced a powerful effect upon the 
imaginations of scholarly and courtly young men. Poets and 
dramatists spoke of themselves as " sons of Ben," delight- 
ing in his society while he lived, and honoring his memory 
when he died. Six months after his death a volume appeared, 
entitled Jonsonus Virbius^ in which peers and commons, bish- 
ops and laymen united to celebrate in verses English, Latin, 
and Greek, the greatness of the deceased laureate, and to 
express the esteem and veneration in which they held him 
as a man.^ English literature knows no other such tribute ; 
it is above many monuments. Let us glance at the contrib- 
utors to Jonsonus Virbiiis^ for among them are some of the 
most characteristic, if not the greatest, of the " sons of Ben." 
First is the amiable and accomplished Lucius Carey, Lord 
Falkland, in bravery, courtesy, loyalty, all but literature — 
although a graceful poet — the Sidney of his age ; next, the 
genial and kindly Henry King, later Bishop of Chichester, 
author of the best lines of the volume ; Thomas May, Shak- 

1 The quantity of this " literature " is very great, and much of it has 
little but an historical and social value. One of the most characteristic 
collections is Wifs Recreations^ first published in 1641, and going through 
nearly a dozen editions before the close of the century. Other miscel- 
lanies were Wit Restored^ Wit and Drollery, The Loyal Garland, The 
Muses^ Recreation. The song books of the period begin with Hilton's 
Book of Airs, 1627, and extend through innumerable songs, airs, and 
dialogues to Dr. Purcell's Collection of Airs, 1697. 

'^ fonsonus Virbiiis is reprinted J^ the collected editions of Jonson 
by Whalley, Gifford, and Cunningham.* 



xxii I.VTR OD UC TION. 

erley Marmion, Jasper Mayne, and William Cartwright, all 
dramatists of repute, some of them writing into Restoration 
times, the last a consummate master of panegyric and a 
lyric and elegiac poet after the manner of his other master, 
Donne. James Howell, the author of the charming Epistolac 
Ho-Eliajiae^ long intimate with Jonson, contributes a few 
lines ; as do John Clieveland, the trenchant loyalist satirist ; 
Sir John Beaumont, cousin of the dramatist, a poet chiefly 
by kinship ; Habington, author of Castara ; and Buckhurst, 
descendant of the author of Gorboduc, and father of Charles 
Sackville, Earl of Dorset, the courtly poet of the next reign. 
John Ford, the great dramatist, writes as an equal, not as 
a " son "; and last comes Edmund Waller, whose contact with 
earlier poetry is generally forgotten in the fact that he is the 
historical link between the lyric of Jonson and that of the 
Restoration. Shirley, the last illustrious name of the old 
drama, does not appear ; although a friend of Ford, he was 
probably without the charmed circle. Neither Herrick nor 
Carew contribute, though the former, certainly a veritable 
''son," as several of his poems attest, was now a recluse in 
"loathed Devonshire"; whilst Carew, an older man, whose 
occasional verses show close intimacy with Jonson, was to 
survive but two years.^ 

If now we look into the contents of a volume of one 
of these "sons of Ben," we shall find that he has followed 
his master alike in the diversity and in the limitations of his 
art. He may give a greater preponderance to one species 
of verse, but he tries all — drama, the poetical epistle, epi- 
gram, lyric song and ode, commendatory verse, prologue and 
epilogue. The sonnets, pastorals, and madrigals of the past 
age have been superseded, despite the fact that Habington 

1 Cf. Herrick's two epigrams on Jonson, his Prayer to him, and his 
Ode; ed. Grosart, II, 78, 79, 185; III, 11. See also Carew's To Ben 
Jonson^ ed. Hazlitt, p. 84. 



INTRODUCTION. xxiii 

may throw his verses into a kind of irregular sequence and 
limit some of his poems to fourteen lines, and although 
Herrick may invent a new and dainty pastoral mode of his own 
by a fresh return to nature.^ It is notable that few of these ^ 
writers of the days of Charles are men of both tongues like 
Greene, Dekker, or Heywood, who wrote verse and prose, and 
even mingled them at times in one work. Moreover, not one 
of these writers was a literary man in the sense which Jonson 
exemplified, unless we except Plowell and Davenant. Falk- £^" 
land, Habington, Carew, Randolph, and Waller were courtiers ; 
Cartwright, Herrick, and King clergymen ; Herbert was suc- 
cessively both. Most of those who survived to the civil wars 
sided with the king or fought for him ; not a few fell in his 
cause. 

But if these writers are the professed " sons of Ben " and 
inherited his love of form, his fondness for learning well 
displayed, and at times his didacticism and heavy satirical 
hand, they inherited also, each after his capacity, many of 
the idiosyncrasies of Donne, their other master ; and the 
idiosyncrasies of Donne are precisely those which are the 
most dangerous in the hands of mediocrity. It was thus 
that Donne's extraordinary originality in the invention and 
application of figure — a power which, it is frankly to be 
confessed, he often used tastelessly and irresponsibly — 
became the source of Cartwright's lapses from good taste, 
Crashaw's • confusion, and Cowley's irregularity of thought, 
and the all but universal search after ' conceit ' and far- 
fetched imagery. Thus it was that Donne's lordly contempt y 
for mere form came to be made accountable for the slovenly 
and clumsy carelessness of metre and sense which mars the 
work of such poets as Suckling and makes the verse of 
Lovelace, except for some half-dozen lyrics, unreadable. 

In the contemplation of such aberrations as these, and in 

^ Cf. Corinna 'j Going A -Maying, below, p. lo. 



v; 



xxiv INTRODUCTION. 

the midst of a complete triumph of principles diametrically 
opposed to the romantic ideals which had begot this freedom 
and excess, it was to be expected that the critics of the next 
century should do injustice to the past. Severe and con- 
demnatory, flippantly patronizing or weakly apologetic — such 
is the attitude of these and even of later critics as to Donne 
and his imitators. Rarely has criticism passed beyond the 
lines so carefully and so perversely drawn by Dr. Samuel 
Johnson in his famous passage on the "metaphysical poets " 
in his life of Cowley. As this subject is of prime importance 
in any discussion of the poetry of the seventeenth century, 
no apology need be offered for quoting once more the familiar 
words of Dr. Johnson. 

"The metaphysical poets were men of learning, and to 
show their learning was their whole endeavor : but, unluckily 
resolving to show it in rhyme, instead of writing poetry they 
only wrote verses, and very often such verses as stood the 
trial of the finger better than of the ear ; for the modulation 
was so imperfect that they were only found to be verses by 
counting the syllables. 

" If the father of criticism has rightly denominated poetry 
ri^vT] fiiixrjTLKr], an imitative art, these writers will, without 
great wrong, lose their right to the name of poets ; for they 
cannot be said to have imitated anything : they neither 
copied nature nor life ; neither painted the forms of matter 
nor represented the operations of the intellect. 

" Those however who deny them to be poets, allow them 
to be wits. Dryden confesses of himself and his contempo- 
raries, that they fall below Donne in wit; but maintains, 
that they surpass him in poetry."^ 

This famous deliverance is a glaring instance of that 
species of criticism which is worked up out of the critical 
dicta of others, a mystery not wholly confined to Dr. Johnson 

1 Lives of the English Poets., Cowley, ed. Tauchnitz. I, it. 



INTRO D UC TION. xxv 

nor to his age. If now we turn to Dryden's Discourse con- 
cerning the Original afid Progress of Satire,^ we shall find 
the following passage addressed to the Earl of Dorset and 
concerned mainly with a eulogy of the poetry of that noble 
author. 

" There is more salt in all your verses, than I have seen 
in any of the moderns, or even of the ancients; but you 
have been sparing of the gall, by which means you have 
pleased all readers, and offended none. Donne alone, of all 
our countrymen, had your talent ; but was not happy enough 
to arrive at your versification; and were he translated into 
numbers, and English, he would yet be wanting in the 
dignity of expression. . . . You equal Donne in the variety, 
multiplicity, and choice of thoughts ; you excel him in the 
manner and the words. I read you both with the same 
admiration, but not with the same delight. He affects the 
7nefa_physics, not only in his satires, but in his amourous 
verses; and perplexes the minds of the fair sex with nice 
speculations of philosophy, when he should engage their 
hearts and entertain them with the softness of love. In this 
(if I may be pardoned for so bold a truth) Mr. Cowley has 
copied him to a fault." ^ 

Several things are to be remarked on this passage : (i) that 
Donne is only mentioned incidentally, the main purpose 
being the encomium upon the satire of the noble and now 
forgotten lord ; (2) that the discussion is confined to satire, 
although a side reference is made to Donne's amorous verse, 
and Cowley is charged with imitating these products of 
Donne ; (3) that Donne is praised for " variety, multiplicity, 
and choiceness of thought"; (4) that he is said to be 
"wanting in dignity of expression" and "in manner and 

1 This essay was originally prefixed to the translation of Juvenal (ed. 
Scott-Saintsbury, XII, 1-123). See also Professor Hales' introductory 
note to Donne in Ward's English Poets, I, 558. ^ Ji^ici., p. 6. 



XXVI INTR on UC TION. 

words " ; (5) that he needs translation " into numbers and 
English"; and (6) that he affects the metaphysics in his 
amorous verse, where nature only should reign. Here it 
was then that Dr. Johnson obtained the suggestion of link- 
ing the names of Donne and Cowley and the specific dic- 
tum which he extended to all their work ; here it was that 
he found the word "metaphysical," which he liberally en- 
larged by inference to include most of the poets of the 
reigns of James I and his son who differed in manner from 
Dryden and Waller. From the same passage Pope and 
Parnell derived the idea of translating " into numbers and 
English " the satires of Donne ; and the only thing which 
the critics of the next age omitted was the "variety, multi- 
plicity, and choice of thoughts," which even the master of 
the rival school, who had read though he had not studied 
Donne, could not deny him. This is not the place in which 
to follow subsequent criticism of " the metaphysical poets." 
It is based almost wholly on Dr. Johnson's dictum, and in- 
volves the same sweeping generalizations of undoubtedly 
salient defects into typical qualities and the same want of 
a reference of these defects to their real sources.^ 

Other terms have been used to express the obliquity of 
thought — if I may so employ the word — which is peculiar 
to Donne and his school. Such is the adjective 'fantastic,' 
from the excessive play of images of the fancy which these 
poets permit themselves. This is less happy than Dryden's 
'metaphysical' to which a real value attaches in that it 
singles out the unquestioned fondness of these writers for 
* conceits ' drawn from the sciences and from speculative 

1 In another place (the Dedication io Eleojiora, ed. Scott-Saintsbury, 
XI, 123) Dryden designated Donne "the greatest wit, though not the 
best poet of our nation." Here again Johnson found a cue for his 
famous discussion of wit, which follows the last paragraph of the 
passage quoted above. 



INTR OD UC TION. xxvil 

philosophy. De Quincey proposed the word ' rhetorical,' 
with a characteristic refinement restricting its meaning to 
the sense in which " rhetoric lays the principal stress on the 
management of thoughts and only a secondary one upon 
the ornaments of style." ^ This has the merit of recognizing 
the dialectical address and the constructive design and 
ingenuity which were Donne's and Carew's, though by no 
means equally Cowley's. When all has been said, we must 
recognize that none of these terms fully explains the complex 
conditions of the lyric of this age. 

Special characteristics aside, there is no more distinctive 
mark of the poetry of this age than the all but universal 
practice of ' conceit.' By Jonson and Bacon this word 
was employed for the thing conceived, the thought, the 
image. It was likewise employed, however, in the significa- 
tion, more current later, of a thought far-fetched and ingen- 
ious rather than natural and obvious. That the ' conceit ' in 
this latter sense was no stranger to the verse and prose of 
the reign of Elizabeth is attested by innumerable examples 
from the days of Sidney to those of Donne. ^ 

Thus Gascoigne, with a more vivid consciousness of the 
persistence of hackneyed poetical figure than is usual 
amongst minor poets, declares : "If I should undertake to 
wryte in prayse of a gentlewoman, I would neither praise 
hir christal eye, nor hir cherrie lippe, etc. For these things 
are trita et obvia. But I would either find some supernatu- 
rall cause whereby my penne might walke in the superlative 

1 Historical Essays, American ed. 1856, II, 22S, 229. 

2 Murray {Dictionary^ s.v.) quotes Puttenham (ed. Arber, p. 20) for 
an early use of this word : " Others of a more fine and pleasaunt head 
... in short poemes uttered prettie merry conceits, and these men 
were called Epigrammatists." Sidney (according to Dr. C. G. Child) 
is the earliest English poet to exhibit the conceit as a distinctive 
feature of style. 



xxviii INTRODUCTION. 

degree, or else ... I would . . . make a strange discourse 
of some intollerable passion, or finde occasion to pleade 
by the example of some historic, or discover my disquiet in 
shadows per Allegoriam, or use the covertest meane that I 
could to avoyde the uncomely customes of common writers." ^ 
That this species of wit became more and more popular 
as the reign of James advanced is explained by the general 
decline from imagination to fancy which marks the trend of 
the whole age, and which came in time to ascribe a false 
dignity and importance to keenness and readiness in the 
discovery of accidental and even trivial similarities in things 
unlike. The gradations of the word ' wit ' range from i/ige- 
nlu7n, insight, mental power, to the snap of the toy cracker 
denominated a pun. Wit may consist in the thought and 
the wisdom thereof or in the merest accident of sound or form. 
The genuine Caroline ' conceit ' is mostly in the fibre of the 
thought, and, unlike the antithetical wit of the next age, is, 
as a rule, unaided by structural or rhetorical device. Thus 
Cowley says of those who carved the wooden images for 
the temple of Jerusalem : 

[They] carve the trunks and breathing shapes bestow, 
Giving the trees more life than when they grow^ ; 

and Clieveland asks, apropos of the possibility of a bee's 
stinging his mistress : 

What wasp would prove 
Ravaillac to my queen of love ? ^ 

1 With the foreign sources of the Elizabethan and Jacobean conceit 
we cannot be here concerned. See on this subject the forthcoming 
monograph of Dr. Clarence G. Child on The Seventeenth Century Con- 
■ceii, shortly to appear in the Publications of the Modern Language 
Association of America. 

- The Davideis, ii. 528, 529. 

3 Clievelandi Vindiciae, ed. 1677, p. 4. 



INTR OD UC TION. xxix 

On the other hand, the balanced form of wit appears in 
Dryden's words of Doeg: 

A double noose thou on thy neck dost pull 
For writing treason and for writing duU.^ 

Of like nature is the diamond cross on the bosom of 
Pope's Belinda, 

Which Jews might kiss, and infidels adore. ^ 

Even where epigrammatic point is not demanded, ideas 
so shape themselves: 

By music minds an equal temper know 
Nor swell too high nor sink too low." 

Either form of wit may flash a revealing light and rise from 
the range of fancy, which plays wath similitudes because 
they are pleasing, to the domain of the imagination, which 
adds the sanction and dignity of truth. That form of wit 
which depends more on thought and less on the accident 
of expression is more likely to become imaginative and 
revealing. To deny, however, that form enters essentially 
into all successful art is to fall into vagary. The illustra- 
tions above are all dependent upon fancy ; Cowley's is 
ingenious, Clieveland's forced, Dryden's and Pope's epi- 
grammatic, Pope's last commonplace, unnecessary, and 
redundant. Vaughan's famed figure of the first stanza of 
The World, which can never be too often quoted, is an 

1 Absalom and Achitophel, Part II, 496. 

2 Rape of the Lock, canto ii. 

^ Pope, Ode on Saint Cecilia'' s Day. 



XXX INTRODUCTION. 

instance of a ' conceit ' dilated by its dignity to imaginative 
sublimity and power: 

I saw Eternity the other night 

Like a ring of pure and endless light, 

All calm as it was bright ; 
And round beneath it, Time in hours, days, years 

Driven by the spheres, 
Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world 

And all her train were hurled.^ 

It is an error to regard the Caroline conceit as wholly refer- 
able to Donne's irresponsible use of figure. It is neither so 
limited and abstract in the range of phenomena chosen for 
figurative illustration, so unconcerned with the recognition 
of the outward world, nor so completely referable to the intel- 
lectualization of emotion. Let us take a typical passage of 
Donne : 

But, O, alas ! so long, so far 

Our bodies why do we forbear? 
They are ours, though not we ; we are 
The intelligences, they the spheres ; 
We owe them thanks, because they thus 

Did us to us at first convey. 
Yielded their senses' force to us. 
Nor are dross to us but alloy. 
On man heaven's influence works riot so, 

But that it first imprints the air ; 
For soul into the soul may flow 
Though it to body first repair.^ 

This passage is subtle, almost dialectic. A keen, sinuous, 
reasoning mind is playing with its powers. Except for the 
implied personification of the body regarded apart from the 
soul, the language is free from figure ; there is no confusion 

1 See the whole poem, below, p. 145. 

2 The Ecstasy, ed. 1650, p. 43. 



INTR ODUC TION. xxxi 

of thought. There is the distinctively Donnian employment 
of ideas derived from physical and speculative science : the 
body is the ' sphere ' or superficies which includes within it 
the soul, a term of the old astro-philosophy ; the body 
is not 'dross' but an 'alloy,' alchemical terms; the 'in- 
fluence ' of heaven is the use of that word in an astro- 
logical sense, meaning " the radiation of power from the 
stars in certain positions or collections aft'ecting human 
actions and destinies "; and lastly, the phrase "imprints the 
air " involves an idea of the old philosophy, by which " sen- 
suous perception is explained by effluxes of atoms from the 
things perceived whereby images are produced (' imprinted ') 
which strike our senses." Donne subtly transfers this purely 
physical conception to the transference of divine influences.-^ 
On the other hand, take this, the one flagging stanza of 
Crashaw's otherwise noble Hymn of the Nativity. The Vir- 
gin is spoken of, and represented with the Child, who is 
addressed by the poet : 

She sings thy tears asleep, and dips 

Her kisses in thy weeping eye ; 
She spreads the red leaves of thy lips, 

That in their buds yet blushing lie. 
She 'gainst those mother diamonds tries 
The points of her 3'oung eagle's eyes.^ 

This diflicult passage may perhaps be thus explained : the 
Virgin sings to her babe until, falling asleep, his tears cease 
to flow. "And dips her kisses in thy weeping eye," she 
kisses lightly his eyes, suffused with tears. Here the light- 
ness of the kiss and the over-brimming fullness of the eyes 
suggest the hyperbole and the implied metaphor, which 
likens the kiss to something lightly dipped into a stream. 

1 See Ueberweg's History of Philosophy, I, 71. 
- See below, p. 113. 



xxxii INTRODUCTION. 

" She spreads the red leaves of thy lips," i.e., kisses the 
child's lips, which lie lightly apart in infantile sleep, and 
which are like rosebuds in their color and in their childish 
undevelopment. " Mother diamonds " are the eyes of the 
Virgin, bright as diamonds and resembling those of the child. 
'' Points " are the rays or beams of the eye, which, accord- 
ing to the old physics, passed, in vision, from one eye to 
another. Lastly, the eyes of the child are likened to those 
of a young eagle, and the Virgin tests them against her own 
as the mother eagle is supposed to test her nestling's eyes 
against the sun. 

Leaving out the figure involved in ' points,' which is Don- 
nian and probably wholly due to the fashion set by him, this 
passage of Crashaw is inspired, not by the intellect, which 
clears and distinguishes objects, but by passion, which blends 
and confuses them. The language is one mass of involved 
and tangled figure, in which similarity suggests similarity 
in objects contemplated and intensely visualized ■ — not in 
abstractions incapable of visualization. Donne fetches his 
images from the byways of mediaeval science and metaphysic 
and intellectualizes them in the process. Crashaw derives 
his imagery from the impetus of his feelings and from an 
intense visualization of the outer world, which causes him to 
revel in light, color, motion, and space. He at times con- 
fuses his images in a pregnancy of thought that involves a 
partial obscuration of the thing to be figured. These two 
methods are at the very poles from each other, and in- 
capable of derivation, the one from the other. CBut if the 
difficulties of Donne are largely due to subtlety of thought, 
and those of Crashaw to impetus of feeling, the figures of the 
lesser poets may often be referred to a striving after original 
effect, an ingenious pursuit of similitudes in things repug- 
nant, that amounts to a notorious vice of style. The books 
are full of illustrations of this false taste, and it is easy to 



INTRODUCTION. xxxiu 

find them in the verse of Quarles, Cartwright, Crashaw, Love- 
lace, and Davenant; even in Carew, Herbert, and Vaughan. 
Cowley, who has been much abused on this score, but who 
is often a true poet, gives us this typical instance of the 
hunted conceit, on that eternal quibble of the amorists, 
" My true love hath my heart and I have his " : 

So much thyself does in me live, 

That when it for thyself I give, 
'T is but to change that piece of gold for this, 

Whose stamp and value equal is. 

Yet, lest the weight be counted bad, 
My soul and body, two grains more, I '11 add.^ 

With all the lapses into bad taste and extravagance to 
which the passion for ' conceit ' led, and notwithstanding a y/ 
frank confession that the verse of amateur poets like Love- 
lace and Suckling is often so wantonly careless and slovenly 
that it becomes not only unpoetical and unliterary but, in 
places, all but absolutely unintelligible, a sense of construc- 
tiveness none the less distinguishes much of the poetry 
of this age. It is this that De Quincey recognizes in the term 
' rhetorical ' noticed above. From its source in the absorp- 
tion of classical theories and ideas, whether consciously and 
directly, as with Jonson himself, or indirectly, as with many 
of his followers, I have ventured to call this quality of the 
seventeenth century poetry its assimilative classicism. This 
term may be more clearly apprehended in the contrast which 
exists between it and the empirical classicism of Spenser 
and Sidney, which consisted almost entirely in imitation and 
experiment with the superficialities of classic allusion and 
versification. Not less distinguishable is the assimilative 
classicism of Jonson and his followers from the restrictive 
and, in some respects, pseudo-classicism of the age of Anne, 

1 The Bargain, from The Mistress^ Cowley, ed. Grosart, I, II2. 



xxxiv INTRODUCTION. 

although the former led the way to those restraints of form 
in design and in expression that came ultimately to work a 
revolution in English poetry. If we will examine a success- 
ful lyric of Carew, Herrick, or Waller, we shall often find its 
success to consist in an orderly and skilful presentation of 
material, in a minute attention to the weight and value of 
words and the proper placing of them, whilst controlling all 
is an ever-present and wholesome sense of design. 



IV. 

Thomas Carew and Robert Herrick are so important in 
themselves, and, though in many respects strikingly in con- 
trast, so typical of the secular lyric of the seventeenth cen- 
tury at its best, that this subject cannot be better treated 
than in a brief consideration of these two poets. The fol- 
lowing are some of the qualities which Carew and Herrick 
possess in common. With natures versatile, but neither deep 
nor passionate, both are equally devoid of the didactic fibre 
of Jonson and of the spiritual depth of Donne. The sincere 
and beautiful religious lyrics of Herrick form but a fraction of 
his poetical work and not the part for which he is most dis- 
tinguished. As to Carew, he thus expresses his relation to 
" sacred verses " in his Epistle to George Sandys^: 

I press not to the choir, nor dare I greet 
The holy place with my unhallowed feet ; 
My unwashed Muse pollutes not things divine, 
Nor mingles her profaner notes with thine ; 
Here humbly at the porch she stays, 
And with glad ears sucks in thy sacred lays. 

Both of these poets are artists, the eye faithfully on the 
subject, with a sense of design before them and a genuine 

1 On his Translation of the Psalms, ed. Carew, 1825, p. it6. 



INTRODUCTION. xxxv 

fidelity to that ' nature ' which serves them for theme. This 
all will grant Herrick, for his flowers and fair maids are 
' nature ' in the sense employed by every one. But Carew 
also can compass ' nature ' in this narrower sense and sing 
charmingly of the quickening approach of spring, which 

wakes in hollow tree 
The drowsy cuckoo and the humble bee.^ 

Nor is he less true to nature when he gives us — as he does 
often in his wise and graceful occasional verses — a glimpse 
of loftier ideals."'^ These poets are English, like their mas- 
ters, Jonson and Donne, and entirely free from Italianism. 
Their classicism sits easily upon them, especially that of 
Carew, and is the classicism of men of the world, informing 
their style and illuminating their thoughts, not cumbering 
them with unnecessary learning. Carew is more prone to 
the use of 'conceit' than Herrick; but in both good taste, 
artistically speaking, prevents an excessive use of intellec- 
tualized imagery. Both poets are, for the same reason, 
remarkably equal, rarely allowing inferior work to see the 
light. In neither poet is there the -slightest use of allegory 
or anything in the nature of mysticism. Each lives on the 
earth, content to enjoy the good things thereof, to regret the 
fleetness of time and the fragility of beauty, but ready to 
seize the day and revel in its pleasures. Lastly, both are 
consummate stylists in construction, ordering of thought, 
choice and placing of words, and nicety of versification. 

If we turn to the points of difference, a great contrast at 
once appears in the lives of these two poets. Carew was 
from early manhood one of the accepted wits of the court, 

1 See p. 63, below. 

- See Carew's ideal man, To the Countess of Anglesy, ed. Carew, 
1S25, p. 87, vv. 41 ff., and contrast with Herrick's His Cavalier, ed. 
Grosart, I, 51. 



XXX VI INTR OD UC TION. 

living in the heart of the best society, in daily attendance 
upon the king. He had but to open his lips to be appre- 
ciated and applauded, and his poetry was produced, not for 
the world, but for the inner circle of the best society of Eng- 
land. His occasional verses are few, and well chosen as to 
dedicatees : to majesty, to the Lord Chief Justice of England, 
to peers and peeresses; of poets, to Donne, to Jonson, 
Sandys, and the contemporary laureate, Davenant ; to some 
few courtly friends; to many fair ladies, whose anonymity is 
becomingly preserved from the prying scrutiny of the outside 
world in initials and pseudonymes. Herrick, on the other 
hand, banished from the society of the wits which he loved, 
forced into retirement for the sake of a livelihood, enjoyed 
the compensation of a closer association with nature. His 
poetry was written for his own pleasure and that of a few 
friends who loved the work for the man's sake. Herrick 
was nearly sixty before The Hesperides was printed, and the 
volume made no great stir, nor is likely to have done so even 
had it appeared in more propitious times. His occasional 
verse contains lines to royalty, addressed from afar, but ex- 
hibits no familiarity wath ' great ones.' His dedicatees are 
the small country gentry, that sound, wholesome stock which 
maintained the honesty and purity of English blood when 
the court had become a veritable plague spot and threatened 
the life of the nation. 

With such contrasted environments as these acting upon 
temperaments susceptible in each case, we must expect con- 
trasted results even within the well-defined limits of this 
species of lyric. In Herrick we have the elasticity and free- 
dom that come with the breath of open air, a greater open- 
ness and geniality of disposition. His range of subject, so 
charmingly set forth in The Argument to his Book, begins 
with "brooks and blossoms, birds and bowers," and ends 
with heaven. Between lie many things — the seasons, coun- 



IXTRODUCTION. xxxvii 

try mirth, " cleanly wantonness,'' " the court of Queen Mab 
and the Fairy King." Considering only Carew's most char- 
acteristic lyrics, we may say that his range is contained in a 
corner of this spacious garden of Herrick. In Carew the 
view of life is narrower, more conventional ; there is greater 
repression, but more civility, more elegance and polish. De- 
spite occasional touches of truth in the observation of nature, 
we find a use of natural objects for decorative effect and a 
frequent employment of metaphor which applies the work of 
man to illustrate nature.^ Carew knows nothing of "country 
glee " or fairyland, and better appreciates the cold brilliancy 
of diamonds than the blush of " July-flowers," the odors of 
spicery than the " essences of jessamine." Yet, granting 
this limitation, which is the more apparent if we consider 
Herrick's charming folklore or " paganism of the country 
side," his prevailing eroticism draws him near to Carew; 
whilst the touches of a wider experience in his occasional 
poetry disclose unrealized possibilities in Carew. 

In nothing is the difference between these poets so plainly 
set forth as in what may be called their temper. Herrick 
is genial, naif, playful at times; there is a spontaneousness 
about him, a sincerity that disarms criticism. Take this 
characteristic little poem, To his Co?iscieJice : 

Can I not sin, but thou wilt be 

My private prothonotary ? 

Can I not woo thee to pass by 

A short and sweet iniquity ? 

I '11 cast a mist, a cloud upon 

My delicate transgression, 

So utter dark, as that no eye 

Shall see the hugged impiety : 

Gifts blind the wise, and bribes do please, 

1 Cf. T)ie Spring, p. 63 of this volume, vv. 2, 3. See also ilerrick's 
Tfie Primrose^ and Carew's To tJie New Year. 



xxxvi 11 INTR OD UC TIOX. 

And wind all other witnesses ; 

And wilt not thou with gold be tied 

To lay thy pen and ink aside ? 

That in the mirk and tongueless night, 

Wanton I may, and thou not write ? 

It will not be : and therefore, now, 

For times to come, I '11 make this vow, 

From aberrations to live free ; 

So I '11 not fear the Judge and thee.^ 

There is no lack of clear vision here ; yet who believes in the 
seriousness of this pretty repentance ? This ' vow ' is of 
the same nature as his vows to Apollo, Bacchus, or Venus : 

Make her this day smile on me 
And I '11 roses give to thee.^ 

In a word, the engaging temper of a man not wholly impec- 
cable, nor seeking to have you believe that he is, shines 
forth — a man of kindly heart, much beloved by his parish- 
ioners, charitable, simple, unostentatious, loving mirth and 
playful gallantry, not a stranger to the cup or to full-blooded 
life, hating the unlovely, and writing horrid epigrams on what 
he detested, measured by his detestation; shrinking some- 
what from deeper thoughts, from an omnipresent dread of 
death, the mortal antipathy of every true Hedonist. 

The temper of Carew was greatly in contrast with this. 
Evidently a man of few friends, of much reserve, there was 
in him more inward fire than might have been supposed 
under his perfect control. Carew was a man altogether 
sophisticate, never to be carried away into portrayal of self ; 
of pointed and polished wit, and a gentleman in the use of 
it ; a master in the arch and wilfully perverse hyperbole of 
compliment ; but neither satirist nor cynic, from the feeling 

1 JVoble Numbers, ed. Grosart, III, 1^7. 
^ Hespe7'ides, ibid. 52. 



INTR OD UC TION. xxxix 

that satire and cynicism withdraw a man from that easy 
contact with his fellows in which good society consists, a con- 
tact the essence of which is a graceful waiving of the dis- 
tinctions of rank in the midst of an ever-present sense of 
their existence. 

If we consider what are the characteristics which mark 
the variety of poetry called vers de sociefe, we shall find them 
to consist largely in the following : the recognition of man 
living in a highly organized state of society as a fitting theme 
for poetry, the making of the conventions of social life into 
a subject for art which may involve as faithful realism as 
the imitation of any other phase of nature. It is only the 
man who knows this phase of life from within who can truly 
depict it ; not because it is superior to other life, but because 
it is broken up into a greater number of facets, each reflect- 
ing its own little picture. Defining I'ers de societe, then, as 
an attempt to produce the effect demanded of poetry from 
the materials existing in the highly organized status of culti- 
vated life, we may expect to find this species of poetry wher- 
ever such life exists, and in England it came to exist in its 
perfection in the reign of King James. The earlier age was 
too much engrossed with great ideas ; it was too expansive, • 
and hence too little intent on what was near. Ve?'s de societe 
demands self-control, at times daring, ease and elegance of 
manner, delicacy of touch, wit, an entire absence of pedantry, 
perfection of form and of finish. Carew has all this. He has 
even much of the French gaieit and esprit, while preserving 
with his English spirit a remarkable originality on an instru- 
ment of such limited scale. 

Herrick, too, wrote verse of this class, but he wrote more 
and better on other themes. It is not strange, considering 
the environment of each of these poets and their differing 
success in reaching their contemporary public, that Herrick 
should have affected his successors far less than Carew. 



xl INTRODUCTION. 

Carew was in the direct line of development from the assimi- 
lative classicism of Ben Jonson to the restrictive classicism 
of Edmund Waller; Herrick was without the range of that 
course of development, territorially and artistically. He was 
really above it. And yet Herrick was not without his later 
kindred, less by direct influence than by the common bond 
that unites all true poets in the love of nature and of man. 
Andrew Marvell and Charles Cotton both breathe the fresh 
country air that Herrick so loved. But it is doubtful if either 
owes much directly to Herrick ; it is certain that Cotton owes 
much to Carew. 

The complex poetical relations of Waller must be deferred 
to a later consideration. It is sufficient to notice here that 
while he owes most to Carew in the thought and manner of 
his lyrics, as Pope long since pointed out,^ Waller did not 
disdain to borrow an occasional thought from the less-known 
vicar of Dean Prior. In a late edition of Wifs J^ecreations, 
a miscellany made up of an indiscriminate garnering of 
fragments, some good, some very bad, from poets of past and 
contemporary repute, three poems on the rose appear side 
by side. Two of them are by Waller, one the famed Go, 
lovely Rose, the other, probably the original, is by Herrick.^ 
The idea of another of Waller's most highly praised lyrics. 
On a Girdle, will also be found paralleled in Herrick's 
Upofi Julia 's Ribband. Here is the same familiar thought 
as treated in the manner of three differing schools. Her- 
rick says in simple affirmation : 

Nay 't is the zonulet of love, 
Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove.^ 

1 Cf. a rough draft of a Discourse on the Rise tuid F^'ogress of English 
Poetry, Riverside ed., Pope, I, civ. 

2 See p- 125 and the note thereon. 

3 Ed. Hale, p. 20. 



INTRODUCTION. xli 

The language is direct, the idea fancifully but tastefully 
treated ; the poet employs an unusual and musical word, 
'zonulet,' and his versification is free but artistic. 

Give me but what this ribband bound, 
Take all the rest the world goes round! • 

cries Waller in rhetorical exclamation, reducing fancy to 
sense, avoiding unusual poetical words, but practising a 
verse of perfect regularity. Lastly Clieveland contorts the 
thought into a conceit, far-fetched and unpoetical, and 

asks : 

Is not the universe strait-laced 
When I can clasp it in a waist ? ^ 

Returning to Herrick and Carew, both of these poets 
habitually form their poems into a completed organism, and 
both possess a diction simple, pure, and of limpid clearness. 
To say a thing directly is apparently so easy a matter that 
poets like these are sometimes treated with contempt as men 
who have done trifling things within the power of any one. 
In truth, simplicity of style, as illuminating and intangible as 
the light of day, is the latest grace vouchsafed to the consci- 
entious artist. Take this of Herrick: 

A funeral stone 

Or verse, I covet none ; 

But only crave 
Of you that I may have 
A sacred laurel springing from my grave ; 

Which being seen 
Blest with perpetual green 

May grow to be 
Not so much called a tree 
As the eternal monument of me. 

1 Below, p. 124. 

- Clievelandi Vindiciae, 1677, '^^^^ Senses^ Festival, p. 6. 



\/ 



xlii INTR OD UC TION. 

Aside from the beautiful and becoming sentiment, notice 
the direct flow of the words, each in its natural place and 
order. The only inversion is in the first clause, where it 
becomes organic and adds to the effect. Notice the beauty 
of the phrasing, which, with a recurrence of rhyme not always 
at the phrase's end, gives us a dainty variety in unity. ' None,' 
an emphatic word from its position at the end of the clause, 
becomes doubly so by the rhyme and the weight attaching 
to an end-stopped line. The same is true of 'grave,' which 
is still further reinforced in emphasis by the fact that it is 
the third rhyme on the same sound. Note, too, how the dif- 
ference in the grammatical relations of the rhyme-words adds 
to the elements making for variety. The whole poem is one 
sentence, and there is no other collocation of the clauses 
which is at once so natural and so artistic as this. 

Carew is the latest poet, until the coming of Keats, to 
preserve the Elizabethan secret of handling English trochaic 
octosyllabics ; whilst the fertility and inventiveness of Herrick 
in lyrical form are rivalled only by Lodge, Shakespeare, and 
Campion in the preceding age. Very few of Herrick's met- 
rical experiments fall short of perfect success, and his man- 
agement of the more usual metres of his time is always 
masterly and often supremely original. 



Since the days of the venerable Bede and his beautiful 
story of the divine call to a poetic mission given to Casdmon, 
English poets have paid their tithe and more to the celebra- 
tion of religious subjects, whether in translation, paraphrase, 
or in the expression of their own religious emotions. By the 
unerring instinct that makes the artist of one age the kin 
of all artists to come, poets have been especially attracted 
to that union of genuine devotion with the highest form of 



INTRODUCriOX. xliii 

lyrical expression, the Psabns of David. ^ If we leave para- 
phrase, which extended to nearly all the noble stories of 
the Old Testament and to many of the New, reaching its cli- 
max in the divine epic of Paradise Lost, we shall find this 
religious spirit often communicated, even in otherwise origi- 
nal poetry, in the very terms of Biblical style and phrase ; 
but, despite this, preserving in the product a tone and sanc- 
tion above mediocrity of thought or unoriginality of diction. 
"It would not be easy to find a sonnet in any language," 
says the late Mark Pattison, "of equal power to vibrate 
through all the fibres of feeling with sonnet xix. Avenge, O 
Lord, thy slaughtered innocents. The new and nobler purpose 
to which Milton puts the sonnet is here in its splendor: 'In 
his hand the thing became a trumpet whence he blew soul- 
animating strains.' Yet with what homely material is the 
effect produced ! Not only is there not a single purple patch 
in the wording, but of thought, or image, all that there is is 
a borrowed thought, and one repeatedly borrowed, viz., Ter- 
tuUian's saying, ' The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the 
Church.' It would not be impossible, but it would be sacri- 
lege to point to distinct faults in this famous piece ; yet we 
may say that with a familiar quotation for its only thought 
and with diction almost below the ordinary, its thoughtful 
flood of suppressed passion sweeps along the hackneyed 
Biblical phrases of which it is composed, just as a swollen 
river rolls before it the worn pebbles long ago brought down 
from the mountain-side. From this sonnet we may learn 
that the poetry of a poem is lodged somewhere else than in 
its matter or its thoughts, or its imagery, or its words. Our 
heart is here taken by storm, but not by any of these things. 

1 Wyatt, Surry, Sternhold, Hopkins, and Parker all paraphrased 
some of the Psalms before Elizabeth's accession ; Gascoigne, Sidney, and 
Bacon — to mention only the chief names — in her reign ; Milton, Bishop 
King, and Sandys later. 



xliv INTR on UC TION. 

The poet hath breathed on us, and we have received his 
inspiration. In this sonnet is realized Wordsworth's defi- 
nition of Poetry : ' The spontaneous overflow of powerful 
feeling.' " ^ 

We have here the secret of the greater diversity of opinion 
which exists in critical estimates of certain " divine poets " 
as compared with our current estimates of their profaner 
brethren. It is not granted to every one to be at all times 
in the mood in which the sincerity of the devotional poet can 
awaken a responsive chord. The greatest of poets can com- 
pel this response most generally, and therein lies much of 
their power ; those less great often fail, not so much because 
of their own defects as because the music which they offer 
falls upon deaf ears, or upon ears deadened and ringing with 
the din of things wherein is neither poetry nor life. 

It might be hard to find two devotional poets whose 
artistic ideals were more widely at variance with those of 
to-day than Francis Quarles and George Wither. Their 
ethical purpose, though worthy of praise as an ethical pur- 
pose, is paraded in a manner so foreign to our pretence of 
concealment in such matters that it is difficult for us fairly to 
appreciate their achievement. Yet to have given solace and 
moral support to thousands of their fellow-countrymen — for 
these men were read and reread, Quarles in innumerable 
editions, like Tupper in the days of our fathers — to have 
given this solace with that modicum of literary buoyancy 
which was sufficient to float the moralizing, the didacticism, 
and other heavy matters in the somewhat dense medium 
for which it was intended — all this is surely no trifle. The 
flippancy of thought into which a figure may betray one 
cannot diminish the historical importance of such writers, 
although it may well remain a question how far the applica- 

1 The Sotniets of Milton, Introduction, pp. 58-60 ; and see the sonnet, 
below, p. 167. 



INTRODUCTION. xlv 

tion of poetry of any species to specific needs and occasions 
may take it out of the category of fine art. 

If the reader will consider the practice of devotional poetry 
in the sixteenth century as contrasted with the practice of it 
in the age under consideration, he will discover several points 
of interest. If we except such an enthusiastic devotee as 
Father Southwell/ few poets of the earlier age were so 
undividedly devotional in their themes as were Quarles, 
Herbert, Sandys, Crashaw, and Vaughan. Nor is this unex- 
plainable : the earlier age had been much taken up with the 
world and its beauties ; the new age was taken up with 
the world and its vanities. It was no part of Anglican 
Catholicism to quarrel with what was beautiful in the world. 
It was regarded as in the spirit of worship to use and enjoy 
what has been granted us for use and enjoyment. Far 
different is it in an age in which the deep self-questionings 
of Puritanism have discovered, or thought that they have 
discovered, deception, vanity, and idleness in the shows of 
the world. The cleavage between the aesthetic and the 
ethical view of the purpose of literature is complete, and the 
poets no longer write, as did Spenser, hymns to earthly and 
to heavenly love and beauty, bound together in one volume, 
but devote themselves solely to the celebration of one or the 
other, as did Carew and Herbert, or poignantly regret the 
earthly leanings of their earlier Muses, as did Wither and 
Vaughan. 

The earlier poets, too, seemed at times to write devotional 
verse as a sort of duty, like going to church, the proper 
thing to do. This continued, and we feel that Herrick — 
poor pagan that he was — hardly wrote some of his prayers 
to God with the same naturalness and abandon with which 
he addressed Juno, Venus, or Apollo. The latter was a 

1 ,5V?/;?/ Peter's Co7nplaint and Maeoniae were both published in the 
year of Southwell's death, 1595. 



xlvi INTRODUCTION. 

« 

thing to sport with and no danger; on the best authority 
there were no such personages as these statuesque, delight- 
ful old pagan gods, — would that there were ! The former 
was a very different affair ; like the wearing of Sunday 
clothes, a serious matter, and not to be done lightly or 
altogether comfortably, except for a sustaining sense of 
decorum. Greatly in contrast is the beautiful and spiritually 
devoted feeling of Herbert, a man who humbly and devoutly 
held his poetical gift in trust that he might therewith do the 
will of God. Izaak Walton's touching account of Herbert's 
delivery of the manuscript of his book of poetry, The Tetnpk, 
almost upon his death bed cannot be too often quoted: " He 
did with so sweet a humility as seemed to exalt him, bow 
down to Mr. Duncan, and with a thoughtful and contented 
look, say to him : ' Sir, O pray deliver this little book to my 
dear brother, Farrar, and tell him he shall find in it a picture 
of the many spiritual conflicts that have passed twixt God 
and my soul, before I could subject mine to the will of 
Jesus, my Master, in whose service I have now found perfect 
freedom ; desire him to read it, and then, if he can think it 
may turn to the advantage of any dejected poor soul, let it 
be made public ; if not, let him burn it, for I and it are the 
least of God's mercies.' " ^ 

Notwithstanding the richness and variety of the religious 
and moral poetry that dignifies the age of Elizabeth, the 
devotional poetry of the reign of Charles gained in fervor 
and depth of thought. We cannot say-that it retained that 
finish and sense of artistic design which continued longer to 
pervade secular poetry. The devotional poet has his eye 
almost wholly upon the subject, and the very spontaneity of 
his emotions hurries him on — if he be less than the greatest 
— to the facile verbosity of Wither, the metrical lapses of 
Quarles, or the ruggedness and defective execution of 

1 Walton's Lives, Herbert, ed. Morley, p. 277. 



INTR OD UC TION. xlvii 

Vaughan. In a man like Milton the artistic instinct on the 
other hand" is so strong that sincerity of workmanship 
becomes the feature of his very worship. To praise God 
with less than the perfection of man's power is impiety, and 
even the fervor of passion must fall within the controlling reg- 
ulations of all human activity. Thus it is that in the self-con- 
tained and at times to us somewhat cold and austere Miltonic 
poetry, we have really a higher form of worship in art than 
we get from didactic Wither, saintlike Herbert, or rapturous 
Crashavv. In Milton we have the adoration of a great and 
sincere soul, a man who had known the chastening of adver- 
sity, a man who had risked all, and indeed lost much, that 
he might do the duty nearest him. 

Let us now consider these products of the devotional 
poets of the reign of Charles. Quarles and Wither both 
began writing in the reign of James. If we except the 
several devotional verse-pamphlets of Nicholas Breton and 
some others of earlier times, Quarles was one of the first as 
he long remained by far the most popular of what may be 
termed the devotional pamphleteers. As early as 162 1 he 
had published his Hadessa, The History of Queen Esther^ 
followed by Sioii's Elegies^ 1624, Siofi's Sonnets^ 1625, The 
Feast for Worms 2ind fob Militajit, both in 1626, The History 
of Samson^ 1631, and Divine Fancies in 1632. Many of these 
works, as their titles indicate, are paraphrases of Biblical 
story, but in Sion's Elegies and Sion's Sonnets we have the 
devotional lyric. The idea of the collection of such poems 
in a sequence Quarles probably derived from Wither' s Hymns 
and Songs of the Church, 1623. Sequences of "divine 
sonnets," as they were called, had been well known among 
the writings of men like Constable and Breton before the 
close of the last century.-^ Wither's book " comprehends 

1 Cf. Barnes' Divine Century of Spiritual Sonnets, 1595, Constable's 
Spiritual Sonnets, of doubtful date, Breton's The SouVs Harmony, 



xlviii INTRODUCTION. 

the canonical hymns, and such parcels of Holy Scripture as 
may properly be sung, with some other ancient songs . . . 
appropriated to the several tunes and occasions observable 
in the church of England." There are hymns in the com- 
panion volume, Hale/uia/i, 1641, "When oppressors and 
wicked men flourish," "for one legally censured, whether 
justly or unjustly," "for one that is promoted," a "thanks- 
giving after drought." The fatherly solicitude of this worthy 
versifier provided for every sort and condition of man, and 
for every contingency of life. The poet of Fair Vh'tiie, 
Wither's immortal volume of secular verse, has almost dis- 
appeared, except for a certain naivete and fluency in verse 
which marks everything that this facile writer touched. All 
ornament, figure, and epithet have been ruthlessly destroyed, 
until the verse is as direct and unadorned as the baldest 
prose, and scarcely more inspired. The following is a fair 
specimen of this devotional commonplace : 

O hear us though we still offend, 
Augment our wasted store ; 
Into this land that plenty send 
Which filled it heretofore ; 
Then give us grace to use it so 
That thou may'st pleased be. 
And that when fuller we shall grow 
W^e think not less on thee.^ 

In most respects no two poets could present more oppo- 
site methods than Wither and Quarles. There may be some 
figures of speech in the devotional verse of Wither — I have 

Donne's Co7-onet, and Davies of Harford's Wifs Pilgrbnage, 1610, 
1611. 

1 Halehtiah, Part II, Hymn Ixix, ed. Spenser Soc, p. 129. There 
is some entertaining reading on the function of sacred poetry in Wither's 
preface to this work. 



INTR on UC TION. xlix 

not found them ; Quarles is nothing if not abundantly and 
grotesquely figurative, allegorical, and enigmatic. Wither is 
direct in construction if garrulous, and of easy flapping, 
onward flight ; Quarles is at times much twisted and con- 
torted, and soars after his kind with absurd intermittent 
flops and downfalls. Quarles, too, is garrulous ; but while 
Wither is apt to say the same thing about many things, 
Quarles says a great many things about the same thing. 
There is a homely sincerity of speech about Wither which is 
as far above the strained ingenuity of Quarles as it is below 
the revealing poetical insight of Vaughan. 

The most famous book of Quarles is his Emblems^ 1635. 
It is probable that this was the most popular book of verse 
published during the century. It is still reprinted for reli- 
gious edification with a reproduction of the hideous allegor- 
ical wood-cuts of the original edition. Although his verse is 
much overgrown with conceits, repetition, and verbiage, and 
impaired by slovenly versification (a fault which he shares 
with contemporaries far greater than he), there is much real 
poetry in Quarles. In moments of fervid religious excite- 
ment the gauds and baubles of his ordinary poetic diction 
drop away and he writes with manly directness : 

O whither shall I fly.^ what path untrod 
Shall I seek out to scape the flaming rod 
Of my offended, of my angry God ? 

Where shall I sojourn ? what kind sea will hide 
My head from thunder ? where shall I abide, 
Until his flames be quenched or laid aside ? 

What if my feet should take their hasty flight, 
And seek protection in the shades of night ? 
Alas, no shades can blind the God of Light.^ 

1 Emblems, ed. London, 1823, p. 124, and p. 53, below. 



1 INTR OD UC TION. 

Two years earlier Herbert's Temple had appeared and at 
once taken hold upon the hearts of the readers. George 
Herbert was a gentleman by birth and a rare scholar ; he 
had been a courtier and a man of the world, so far as that 
pure and modest spirit could be of the world. Like 
Quarles, Herbert reached the serious readers of his age 
with his sincerity, his piety, his rhetorical if somewhat 
artificial and ' conceited ' style, and his originality of 
figure. He went much further, for Herbert, whatever be 
his rank amongst others, is a true poet who, alike in form 
and spirit, often raises the particular idea into the sphere 
of the universal and makes it a thing of new beauty and 
potency. 

We may pass over the Fou?ih Part of Castara, 1639-1640, 
the devotional poetry of which is not without considerable 
merit, although bookish and imitative, like most of Habing- 
ton's work. Of greater interest are the scriptural paraphrases 
of George Sandys the traveller, including a complete^ and ex- 
cellent version of the Fsaij7is,Job, and Ecdesiastes. The dig- 
nified original poem Deo Optwio Maximo is a good specimen 
of the devotional eloquence of Sandys, who appears to have 
been a man of fine fibre and delicacy of feeling. To Sandys 
has been assigned the place amongst devotional poets that 
Waller holds among the amorists : that of a man whose 
somewhat formal and restrained nature lent itself readily to 
the reaction in rhetoric and versification which was setting 
in. Sandys has even been considered " the first of all Eng- 
lishmen [to make] a uniform practice of writing in heroic 
couplets which are, on the whole, in accord with the French 
rule, and which, for exactness of construction, and for har- 
monious versification, go far towards satisfying the demands 
of the later ' classical ' school in England." ^ Of the absolute 
incorrectness of this opinion, despite its long entrenchment, 
1 See Professor Wood's paper mentioned below, p. Ix. 



INTR OD UC TION. li 

and of its accidental origin in a scribbled note of Pope, I 
shall write below. 

In 1646 appeared Steps to the Temple, with a few secular 
poems under the sub-title, The Delights of the Muses, by Rich- 
ard Crashaw. The Steps was so named in modest refer- 
ence and relation to Herbert's Temple, which was Crashaw's 
immediate inspiration. Crashaw while a student at Cam- 
bridge came under influences which, considering the differ- 
ence in the two ages, are not incomparable to the Oxford or 
Tractarian Movement of our own century. In the fervent 
and pious life of Nicholas Ferrar, into whose hands we have 
already seen the dying Herbert confiding his poetry, Crashaw 
found much to emulate and admire. Ferrar, notable in sci- 
ence, and a successful man of affairs, forsook the world and 
formed, with his kinfolk about him, a small religious commu- 
nity at Little Giddings in Huntingdonshire, where he sought 
to lead a spiritual life in accord with the principles of the 
Anglican Church, Predisposed as was Crashaw to that in- 
tense and sensuous visualization of spiritual emotion which 
has characterized the saints and fathers of the Roman 
Church in many ages, in the life of Saint Theresa the poet 
found his ideal and his hope. His artistic temperament 
had led him early " to denounce those who disassociate art 
from religious worship"; the charity and benignity of his 
temper caused him equally to oppose those who made an 
attack upon the papacy an article of faith. It is easy to see 
how this attitude, under the spiritual influence of such men 
as Herbert, Robert Shelford, and Ferrar, should gradually 
have led Crashaw, with the help of some added political 
impetus, over to the old faith. This impetus came in the 
form of the parliamentary act by which it was provided that 
all monuments of superstition be removed from the churches 
and that the fellows of the universities be required to take 
the oath of the Solemn Leao:ue and Covenant. On the 



Hi INTRODUCTION. 

enforcement of this act against Peterhouse, Crashaw's own 
college, and the consequent desecration of its beautiful 
chapel, Crashaw indignantly refused the League and Cov- 
enant, and was expelled from his fellowship. Before long 
he withdrew to Paris, where he met Cowley. Crashaw died 
in Italy a few years later, a priest of the Church of Rome. 
The picture of Cowley, the fair-minded, meditative Epicu- 
rean, befriending the young enthusiast, when both were in 
exile, is pleasant to dwell upon. 

The relation of Crashaw to Herbert, save for his disciple- 
ship, which changed very little Crashaw's distinctive traits, 
is much that of Herrick and Carew. Herbert and Crashaw 
were both good scholars ; Herbert knew the world and put 
it aside as vanity ; Crashaw could never have been of the 
world ; his was a nature alien to it, and yet there is a greater 
warmth in Crashaw than in Herbert. Crashaw turns the 
passions of earth to worship and identifies the spiritual and 
the material in his devotion; Herbert has the Puritan spirit 
within him, which is troubled in the contemplation of earthly 
vanities, and struggles to rise above and beyond them. It 
is the antithesis of Protestantism and Roman Catholicism, 
an antithesis which we can understand better if we can 
bring ourselves to sympathize with each than if we seek 
to throw ourselves into an attitude of attack or defense 
of either. 

In matter of poetic style, too, despite his quips and con- 
ceits, and despite the fact that with him, as with many devo- 
tional poets, execution waits upon the thought and often 
comes limpingly after, Herbert is far more self-restrained, 
and his poetry of more uniform workmanship and excellence. 
But if Herbert has never fallen into Crashaw's extravagances, 
he is equally incapable of his inspired, rhapsodic flights. 
Herbert felt the beauties of this visible world and has some 
delicate touches of appreciation, as where he says: 



INTRODUCTIOX. liii 

I wish I were a tree 
For sure then I should grow 
To fruit or shade ; at least some bird would trust 
Her household to me, and I should be just.^ 

Crashaw knows less of the concrete objects of the world, 
but is a creature of light and atmosphere, and revels in color 
and the gorgeousness thereof. Crashaw often rhapsodizes 
without bridle, and is open at times to grave criticism on 
the score of taste. It is for these shortcomings that he has 
been, time out of mind, the stock example of the dreadful 
things into which the ill-regulated poetical fancy may fall. 
The "sister baths" and "portable oceans" of Magdalene 
are easily ridiculed, but it is almost as easy, while ridiculing 
these distortions of fancy, to forget the luminousness and 
radiance, the uncommon imaginative power and volatility of 
mind — if I may venture the term — of this devout Shelley 
of the reign of Charles I. 

Two years after the first edition of Crashaw's poems, 
appeared Herrick's Noble A^umbers^ bearing date 1647, but 
bound in after the Hesperides^ 1648. Herrick was too good 
a poet not to write well on any theme, and some of these 
devotional and moral poems have the same artless and dainty 
charm that is possessed in fuller measure by their more 
worldly sisters. The stately and gracious forms of Anglican 
worship must have been dear to such a man as Herrick, 
but it is unlikely that any deep spiritual yearnings disturbed 
the pastoral serenity of Dean Prior. Herrick is best when 
his devotional poetry touches the picturesque details of his 
own life in poems like the Grange, A Thanksgiving for his 
House, or when the subject grows out of a touching Biblical 
situation which may be elaborated with art, as in the fine 
Dirge for Jephthah' s Daughter} But even these sincere and 
beautiful religious lyrics are as ripples on a shallow lake in 

1 Herbert, ed. Grosart, p. 40. ^ pp. 109, 143, and 147 of Hale's ed. 



liv IXTR on UC TION. 

comparison with the crested waves of Crashaw or the deep- 
sea stirrings of Vaughan. 

If we look forward we shall find the practice of the sus- 
tained religious narrative poem, first popularized by Quarles, 
continuing down to very late times. Thus Cowley wrote an 
epic, the Davideis, and Prior esteemed his Solomon the best 
of his work. Parnell wrote on Moses, Deborah, Hczckiah, 
and others, Blackmore on all Creation,^ whilst the seemly 
and graceful turning out of a hymn, meditation, or short 
Biblical paraphrase became one of the ordinary accomplish- 
ments of a gentleman. No less a celebrity than the eminent 
Mr. Waller wrote cantos of Divine Love, of the Fear of God, 
and of Divine Poesy, with poetical reflections on the Lord's 
Prayer^; and his great successors, Dryden and Pope, did 
not disdain to follow his example in the decorous if occa- 
sional practice of a like art. 

The gracious and musical lyrics of Andrew Marvell were 
written in all probability before he took service under the 
Commonwealth in 1652. Like Milton, Marvell laid aside 
the companionship of the Muses to fight worldly battles for 
what he believed to be the right; but, unlike Milton, he 
never returned to poetry again, but remained in the toil and 
sweat of battle to the last. Marvell's devotional poems are 
only a few, but there is about them, as about all the lyrical 
verse which this rare poet has left us, a moral wholesome- 
ness, a genuine joy in external nature, and withal so well- 
contained a grace of expression, that Marvell must be 
assigned no mean place among the lyrists of his century.^ 
Curiously enough, Marvell has extended the pastoral to 
embrace religious poetry in one or two not unsuccessful 

1 Davideis is in Anderson's British Poets, V, 389-426 ; Prior's, Par- 
nell's and Blackmore's works are in the same collection, VII, 473-492 ; 
25 f., 596-642. 2 Anderson's English Poets, V, 498-506. 

^ See Grosart's ed. of Marvell. 



INTRODUCTION. Iv 

efforts. The ode celebrating the nativity, which from its 
theme always partook of the pastoral nature, was to be sure, 
no new thing ; and Herrick, with others before him, had 
apphed the pastoral to occasional verse. ^ Marvell's poems 
are different, and while didactic in intent, are yet distinctly 
artistic. Such poems are Clorinda and £>a?non, and A Dia- 
logue between Thyrsis and Dorinda? 

There remains one great name, that of Henry Vaughan, 
the Silurist, whose secular verse, published as early as 1646, 
was succeeded by long years of religious study and contempla- 
tion, and the production of many books in verse and prose, 
all devotional in cast.^ Vaughan knew Randolph and Cart- 
wright and venerated the memory of Jonson, who died when 
Vaughan was a youth at Oxford ; under this influence he 
translated Juvenal and wrote some erotic poetry not above 
that of Randolph or Stanley. From the little we know of 
his life, it seems that Vaughan, like Herbert, had been of 
the world in his younger days, and that the chastening hand 
of adversity had fallen heavily upon him and led him away 
from earthly themes to the contemplative and devout life of 
a recluse. Without violence to the probable facts, we may 
conceive of Vaughan in his beautiful home in South Wales 
as we think of Wordsworth in later times in his beloved 
Lake Country, a lover of woods and hills and the life that 
makes them melodious, but a lover of them not merely for 
their beauty, but for the divine message which they bear to 
man, their revelation and ethical import. Vaughan's nature, 
like that of Wordsworth, is alike expansive and narrow. 
The expansiveness of the two poets is not unlike, and con- 
sists in a large-souled interpretation of the goodness of God 

1 Cf. A Pastoral upon the Birth of Pritice Charles, ed. Hale, p. 35. 

2 Ed. Aitken, 1S92, pp. 41 and 77 ; and below, pp. 152 and 154. 

3 Grosart has collected the secular and devotional poetry of Vaughan 
in four volumes, 1868-1870. 



1 vi INTR OD UC TION. 

as revealed to man in his works, in a loving appreciation of 
the beauties of nature, in a revealing ethical insight, and 
in a "high seriousness" intent on worthy themes. On the 
other hand, both poets were narrow, though differing in their 
limitations. To Wordsworth doubts, fears, and the complex- 
ities of modern life were naught ; they did not exist for him. 
Vaughan had put the world from him, although he had 
known it and still heard it from afar, like the hum of a great 
and wicked city, out of which his soul had been delivered. 
Wordsworth, with all his greatness, was narrowed by ego- 
tism, by didacticism, by pride ; Vaughan, far less — if at all — 
by any of these, than by his theology, which is often hard 
and formal, and at times unlovely. Vaughan was also lim- 
ited — and here the like is true of Wordsworth — by an 
imperfect artistic sense and a halting execution. 

Vaughan's " realism in detail," which is based not only 
upon a close observance of nature, but upon a sympathy 
and love extending to all living creatures, seems a heritage 
from a nobler age than his. In no one of his immediate con- 
temporaries do we find it in the same strength and imbued 
with the same tenderness; not in the grand descriptive elo- 
quence of Milton, in the homeliness of Marvell, nor in the 
sensuous delight of Herrick. It is thus that Vaughan 
addresses a bird: 

Hither thou com'st. The busy wind all night 
Blew through thy lodging, where thy own warm wing 
Thy pillow was. Many a sullen storm, 
For which coarse man seems much the fitter born, 
Rained in thy bed 
And harmless head ; 
And now as fresh and cheerful as the light 
Thy little heart in early hymns doth sing 
Unto that Providence, whose unseen arm 
Curbed them, and clothed thee well and warm.^ 

1 The Bird, Sacred Poems of Vaughan, ed. Lyte, 1891, p. 174. 



INTRODUCJ^ION. Ivii 

In Vaughan's mysticism we have a more general trait of 
the rehgious poet, a trait not more peculiar in this age to 
Vaughan than to Crashaw. Mysticism of symbol, whether 
it manifest itself in poetry or in philosophy and religion, is 
one of the most difficult subjects with which the critic has 
to deal, for it demands an ability to take the momentary 
subjective position of the author, and a complete reconstruc- 
tion of his mood. The religious mysticism of Vaughan is 
distinguishable from that of Crashaw chiefly in the fact that 
Vaughan is less ecstatic and more musingly meditative ; less 
purely emotional, although, when roused, stirred to the inner 
deeps of his nature. Not the least interesting quality of 
the poetry of Vaughan is its intellectuality, a quality which 
we are apt to think opposed to the spontaneity of emotion 
which inspires the highest forms of art and that naturalness 
or inevitability of expression in which the highest art is ever 
clothed. Yet intellectuality is alike the glory of Donne and 
of our own great contemporary, the late Robert Browning. 
Art is not to be regarded as a thing into which the rational 
processes enter very little as compared with the emotions ; 
but rather as a production in which such a proportion of the 
impelling emotion and the regulative reason is preserved as 
neither to degrade the product into mere sensuousness nor 
to change its nature from art, which is the presentation of 
the typified image, to philosophy, which is the rational dis- 
tinction of its actual properties. A wanton confusion of 
images which neither reveal and figure forth nor distinguish 
and make clear, is neither art nor philosophy, but a base 
product that fails utterly of the purposes of either. 

We have thus traversed a period of scarcely sixty years 
and found in it, alongside of a large amount of poetry dis- 
tinctly secular and often flippant in the worldliness of its 
tone, a body of devotional poetry of a quantity and a qual- 
ity for which we may look in vain in any other half-century 



Iviii INTRODUCTION. 

of English literature. A superficial consideration of this 
century is apt to divide all England into the hostile camps 
of Roundhead and Cavalier; to consider all the former as 
hypocrites, and all the latter as good loyal men ; or — as is 
more usual in our country — to believe all supporters of the 
king utterly misguided and to assume that the virtues flour- 
ished in the Puritan party alone. In the face of these 
vulgar prejudices, it is interesting to note that among 
the devotional poets of that age, Habington and Crashaw 
were Romanists, Wither, Milton, Marvell (though " no 
Roundhead," as his most recent editor puts it) were Puri- 
tans, and all the others were members of the Established 
Church. The spirit of devotion which sought utterance in 
verse rose superior to the narrowness of mere dogma, and 
the inspiration of poetry waited not on a favored sect alone. 
Indeed, nothing could better prove the strong religious feel- 
ing which continued to animate the average Englishman of 
the seventeenth century than the great popularity of books 
like those of Quarles and Herbert among the communicants 
of the Church of England. The Non-Conformists had their 
imaginative literature, too, and produced in this century a 
man who, if not a poet, is almost everything else that litera- 
ture can demand. Pilgrhii's Progress is not much later than 
the latest work of Vaughan and marks a long step forward 
when compared with the contorted and mystical allegory of 
Quarles. In devotional literature, as in secular, the coming 
age was the age of prose, and in this immortal work the 
change was already complete. 

With the return of Charles and the exiles, the popularity 
of religious verse decreased, controversial prose coming 
more and more to take its place with devout readers. How- 
ever, some few lesser poets of conservative tastes, like John 
Norris of Bemerton, continued to cultivate ' divine poetry ' 
far into the last quarter of the century. Samson Agonistes 



INTR on UC T/OiV. 1 ix 

and the great epics of Milton do not concern us directly 
here, although they are the loftiest poetical utterances which 
the English Muse has devoted to religion. It is well known 
that contemporary influences contributed little to them, and 
that they were written upon a long-formed determination, 
and come as the late and crowning glory of a rich poetical 
past. The poems of Milton have lost somewhat in our day 
of rational thinking ; criticism shudders at a cosmogony in 
which Christian legend and pagan mythology are mingled 
in Titanic confusion. It is wdth Paradise Lost much as it is 
with the stately fugues of John Sebastian Bach, the father of 
modern music. We prefer something very different, foun- 
tains with a thousand jets, artificial cataracts lit up with 
electricity. But the great ocean of the immortal music of 
Bach and of the no less immortal poetry of Milton will roll 
in sonorous waves and unfathomable depths, when all the 
little tuneful waterworks of poetical and musical mimicry 
are dumb. 

VI. 

Poetry drooped with the death of King Charles I. f 
Milton had already thrown himself heart and soul into the^ 
political struggle ; Marvell w^as soon to follow. Many of the 
Cavalier poets were dead ; those that survived were either 
silent in the miseries of poverty wdth Lovelace, boisterously 
carolling drinking songs with Alexander Brome and Charles 
Cotton, or keeping up the unequal struggle in satire, ribald 
and hoarse with abuse, like Clieveland's. Stanley had turned 
to the consolations of philosophical study. Montrose, the 
last of that goodly line of English noblemen whose highly 
tempered mettle expressed itself unaffectedly in lyrical song, 
survived his sovereign but one year. If we except Vaughan, 
a few belated publications like those of Stanley, Sherburne, 
and King, and the posthumous volumes of Cartwright and 



Ix INTR on UC TION. 

Crashaw, the fifth decade of the century is singularly barren 
of poetry. The younger men, who were shortly to evolve 
new ideals, were as yet unknown, although it must not be 
forgotten that at the Restoration Cowley had been before 
the public as a poet for nearly thirty years, and Waller rather 
longer.^ 

There are few subjects in the history of English literature 
attended with greater difficulty than the attempt to explain 
how the lapse of a century in time should have transformed 
the literature of England from the traits which characterized 
it in the reign of Queen Elizabeth to those which came to 
prevail under the rule of Queen Anne. The salient charac- 
teristics of the two ages are much too well known to call for 
a word here. Few readers, moreover, are unfamiliar with 
the more usual theories on this subject : how one critic 
believes that Edmund Waller invented the new poetry by 
a spontaneous exercise of his own cleverness ^ ; how another 
demands that this responsibility be fixed upon George 
Sandys "" ; how some think that " classicism " was an impor- 
tation from France, which came into England in the luggage 
of the fascinating Frenchwoman who afterwards became the 
Duchess of Portsmouth ; and how still others suppose that 
the whole thing was really in the air to be caught by infection 
by any one who did not draw apart and live out of this lit- 
erary miasma, as did Milton.'* The conservative reaction in 
literature which triumphed at the Restoration has been so 
hardly treated and so bitterly scorned that there is much 
temptation to attempt a justification. Imaginative literature 
did lose in the change, and enormously ; and as we are 

1 See the poem of the text, p. 5. 

2 Gosse, Eighteenth Century Literature^ p. 2. 

3 Professor Henry Wood, American Journal of Philology, XI, 73, 
and see p. 1, above. 

* Gosse, From Shakespeare to Pope, p. 19. 



INTRODUCTION, Ixi 

engaged to a large extent in a consideration of imaginative 
products in treating of the lyric, it is to be expected that we 
shall find many things to deplore. But if the imagination, 
and with it the power which produces poetry, became for 
a time all but extinct, the understanding, or power which 
arranges, correlates, expounds, and explains, went through a 
course of development which has brought with it in the end 
nothing but gain to the literature considered as a whole. 

If the reader will consider the three great names, Ben 
Jonson, finishing his work about 1635, J^^^ Dryden, at the 
height of his fame fifty years later, and Alexander Pope, with 
nearly ten years of literary activity before him a century after 
Jonson's death, he will notice certain marked differences in 
a general resemblance in the range, subject-matter, and dic- 
tion of the works of these three. The plays of Jonson, despite 
the restrictive character of his genius, exemplify nearly the 
whole spacious field of Elizabethan drama, with an added 
success in the development of the masque which is Jonson's 
own. Jonson is the first poet that gave to occasional verse 
that variety of subject, that power and finish which made it 
for nearly two centuries the most important form of poetical 
expression. The works of Jonson are pervaded with satire, 
criticism, and translation, though all appear less in set form 
than as applied to original work. Finally, Jonson's lyrics 
maintain the diversity, beauty, and originality which distin- 
guish this species of poetry in his favored age. 

If we turn to Dryden, we still find a wide range in sub- 
ject, although limitations are discoverable in the character 
of his dramas and of his lyrics. If we except his operas 
and those pseudo-dramatic aberrations in which he adapted ^ 
the work of Shakespeare and Milton, Dryden writes only two 
kinds of plays, the heroic drama and the comedy of man- 
ners, whilst his lyrics, excepting the two odes for Saint 
Cecilia's Day and some perfunctory religious poems, are 



^ 



Ixii INTR on UC TIOiV. 

wholly amatory in the narrow and vitiated sense in which 
that term was employed in the time of Charles II. The 
strongest element of Dryden's work is occasional verse ; and 
he makes a new departure, showing the tendency of the time 
in the development of what may be called occasional prose : 
the preface and dedicatory epistle. Satire takes form in the 
translation of Juvenal and in the author's own brilliant origi- 
nal satires ; translation becomes Dryden's most lucrative lit- 
erary employment ; and criticism is the very element in which 
he lives. Lastly, we turn to Pope. Here are no plays and 
very few lyrics, scarcely one which is not an applied poem. 
Occasional verse, satire, criticism, and translation have 
usurped the whole field. There was no need that Pope 
should write his criticism in prose, as did Dryden, for 
verse had become in his hands essentially a medium for 
the expression of that species of thought which we in this 
century associate with the prose form. The verse of Pope 
was a medium more happily fitted for the expression of 
the thought of Pope, where rhetorical brilliancy and telling 
antithesis, rather than precision of thought, were demanded, 
than any prose that could possibly have been devised. 

It has often been afiirmed that England has the greater 
poetry, whilst France possesses the superior prose, and in 
the confusion or distinction of the two species of literature 
this difference has been explained.^ Poetry must be governed 
by the imagination ; it must not only see and imitate nature, 
it must transform what it sees, converting the actual into the 
terms of the ideal ; if it does much beside, it is less poetry. 
On the other hand, prose is a matter of the understanding; 
it may call to its aid whatever other faculty you will, but it 
must be ruled by the intelligence alone, to the end that 
the object may be realized as it actually is. With this dis- 

1 See, in general, Matthew Arnold's essay On the Literary Influence 
of Academies. 



INTRODUCTION. Ixiii 

tinction before us, when passion, real or simulated, when 
imagination, genuine or forced, takes the reins from the 
understanding, the product may become poetry, or enthusi- 
asm, or rhapsody ; it certainly ceases to be prose, good, bad, 
or indifferent. So, likewise, when the understanding sup- 
plants imagination we have also a product, which, whatever ^■ 
its form or the wealth of rhetoric bestowed upon it, is alien 
to poetry. This is to be interpreted into no criticism of the 
many English literary products which have the power to 
run and to fly ; we could not spare one of the great pages 
of Carlyle or of Mr. Ruskin, and yet it may well be doubted 
if, on the whole, the French have not been the gainers 
from the care with which they have customarily, until lately, 
kept their prose and their poetry sundered. 

The real value of the age of repression consisted in its {/ 
recognition of the place that the understanding must ever 
hold, not only in the production of prose, but in the produc- 
tion of every form of enduring art. It endeavored to estab- 
lish a standard by which to judge, and failed, less because 
of the inherent weakness of the restrictive ideal than because 
the very excesses of the imaginative age preceding drove 
the classicists to a greater recoil, and made them content ^ 
with the correction of abuse instead of solicitous to found 
their reaction upon a sound basis. The essential cause of 
this great change in literature, above all mere questions of 
foreign origin, precocious inventiveness of individual poets, 
artificiality and " classical heroic couplets," lies in the grad- 
ual increase of the understanding as a regulative force in 
the newer literature, the consequent rise of a well-ordered 
prose, and the equally consequent suppression for several 
decades of that free play of the imagination which is the 
vitalizing atmosphere of poetry. 

Whilst the larger number of poets between 1640 and 
1670, according to temperament or circumstances, held 



Ixi V INTR on UC TION. 

either to the old manner, as did Milton and Marvell, or went 
over wholly to the new, as did Waller and Denham, a few 
were caught, so to speak, between the conflicting waves of 
the two movements and are of unusual historical interest on 
this account. Such was Davenant, whom Mr. Gosse has 
happily described as the Southey of the Restoration,^ a man 
of strenuous endeavor, but, whatever value is attached to his 
epic and dramatic labors, far from a successful lyrist. Such, 
too, was Charles Cotton, who touches Izaak Walton on one 
side with his love of peaceful rural landscape and homely 
country life, and continues into the last quarter of the cen- 
tury the erotic lyrical vein of Carew, with native originality, 
but with inferior technical execution. Above either stands 
Abraham Cowley, the poet who, with Waller, enjoyed the 
greatest contemporary reputation in the interval between 
Jonson and Dryden, and who, take it all in all, fully deserved 
it. Much has been written on Cowley from the days of 
Sprat and Dr. Johnson to those of William Cullen Bryant 
and Mr. Gosse. It might be difficult, too, to find a poet of 
Cowley's rank who has been more variously estimated, a 
circumstance for which the eclecticism of his art may in 
a measure account.'^ Historically considered, Cowley is a 
son of Donne, in thought at times fantastic, in his wit often 
over-ingenious. He has an exasperating habit of dwelling on 
small matters, which deflect the stream of his thought and 
break it up into petty channels. None the less the lyrics 
of Cowley are estimable for their sincerity, for the gen- 
uine poetic worth of many whole poems and far more 
numerous passages, for their moral purity, for their honesty, 

1 Shakespeare to Pope, p. 132. 

2 Cf. the regularity of Cowley's couplets, especially in the Davideis, 
with the metrical and rhetorical looseness of the Pindarique Odes, 
Cowley's most lasting legacy to posterity, and traceable in their influ- 
ence down to Wordsworth and Lowell. 



INTR OD UC TION. Ix v 

humor, and originality, and for the pleasant cadence of their 
verse. 

George Sandys has already been mentioned amongst devo- 
tional poets and as one of those to whom the " improved 
versification " of the next period has been confidently attrib- 
uted.^ I have endeavored elsewhere to show that as a 
matter of fact Sandys conforms more nearly to the type of 
this verse as used by Spenser and his school than to that of 
the eighteenth century, and that in versification, rhetoric, and 
general spirit the prototype of Dryden and Pope is Ben 
Jonson, and neither Sandys nor Waller.- Sandys was only 
one of many who contributed to the coming age of repres- 
sion. His contribution was in the self-control and reserve v^ 
of his style and in the regularity of his verse. But neither 
of these qualities is peculiar to him even in his own age, and 
the more distinctive qualities of the Popean manner in style, 
rhetoric, and versification — its balance, antithesis, epigram- 
matic wit, rhetorical emphasis, split of the verse into two halves 
— are none of them Sandys'. It is of interest to note that 
the notion, still widely current, that Waller through Sandys 
is responsible for the restrictive form of the decasyllabic 
couplet as employed by the poets of the eighteenth century, 
is traceable to a manuscript outline plan for a history of 
English poetry which was found amongst the papers of Pope, 
scribbled on a scrap, as was his wont. Therein Cowley, 
Drayton, Overbury, Randolph, Cartwright, Crashaw, and 
some others appear under the heading " School of Donne "; 
whilst " Carew and T. Carey " are noted as " models to 
Waller in matter, G. Sandys in his Pa7'\aphrase\ of Job and 
Fairfax " as Waller's models " in versification." ^ This is the 

1 American Journal of Philology, XI, it^. 

2 Ben Jotison and the Classical School, Publications of the Modern 
Language Association, XIII, No. 2. 

2 This note was first printed by Owen Ruffhead in his Life of Pope, 



Ixvi INTRO D UC TION. 

source of the notion which, losing sight of his unquestionable 
worth as a poet and a translator, has assigned to Sandys 
an undue prominence in the history of English versification. 
Although we do Waller wrong to consider him the con- 
scious originator of that revolution in poetry which substi- 
tuted for the ideals of Spenser, Jonson or Donne those of 
Dryden and Pope, his age was right in declaring him the 
true exponent of the new " classicism," for it was in Waller, 
above all others, that the tendencies of conservatism in 
thought, diction, and versification at length became con- 
firmed into a system which gave laws to English poetry for a 
hundred and fifty years. Waller had practised the old man- 
ner with a greater freedom than was ever that of Sandys ; 
but the earlier part of Waller's career as a poet is difficult to 
make out, for when he had achieved success in the new and 
fashionable style, he became solicitous, like Malherbe, to 
have the world believe that his classicism began in his 
cradle.^ In Waller we have a man the essence of whose 
character was time-serving, a man to whom ideals were 
nothing, but to whom immediate worldly success, whether in 
politics or letters, was much ; a man whose very unoriginality 
and easy adaptability made him precisely the person to fill 
what Mr. Gosse deftly calls the post of " coryphaeus of the 
long procession of the commonplace." The instinct of his 
followers was right in singling him out for that position of 
historical eminence ; not because, as a boy, he sat down and 
deliberately resolved on a new species of poetry, but because 

1769. It has recently been used by Mr. Courthope in the preface of his 
History of English Poetiy as a point of departure for the discussion of 
that interesting question, How should a history of English poetry be 
written ? 

1 Cf. Ode h Louis XIII, partant pour la Rochelle, ed. Malherbe, 
Paris, 1823, p. 75 : 

Les puissantes faveurs, dont Parnasse m'honore 
Non loin de mon berceau commencferent leur cours. 



INTR OD UC TION. Ixvii 

he chose out with unerring precision just those qualities of 
thought, form, and diction which appealed to the people of his 
age, and wrote and rewrote his poetry in conformity there- 
with. In Carew, Waller found the quintessence of vers de ^ 
societe and " reformed "it of its excessive laces and falling 
bands to congruity with the greater formality which governed 
the costume of the succeeding century. In Sandys, Fairfax, \/ 
Drummond, and some others he found an increasing love of 
that regularity of rhythm which results from a general 
correspondence of length of phrase with length of measure, 
and he found, as well, a smoothness and sweetness of dic- 
tion, in which these poets departed measurably from their 
immediate contemporaries and preserved something of the 
mellifluousness of the Spenserians. Lastly, in Jonson and 
the Elizabethan satirists he found, amongst much with which 
he was in little sympathy, a minute attention to the niceties 
of expression, a kind of spruce antithetical diction, and a 
versification of a constructiveness suited to the epigrammatic 
form in which the thought was often cast. With almost 
feminine tact Waller applied these things to his unoriginal 
but cleverly chosen subject-matter, and in the union of the 
two he wrought his success. / 

As we approach the end of the seventeenth century, the 
lyrists become fewer. The Elizabethan lyric, whose prov- 
ince was the whole world, which dignified great or petty 
themes alike with its fervid sincerity, has given place to a 
product more and more restricted to a conventional treat- 
ment of subjects within an ever-narrowing range. An occa- 
sional poet, absorbed in another art, like Thomas Flatman, a 
man of genuine poetic spirit, might neglect to learn the 
mannerisms of contemporary poetic craft ; or, living without 
the popular literary current, might sing, as did Norris of 
Bemerton, a slender, independent strain. But in the main y 
the lyric had ceased to be an instrument for the expression 



i 



Ixviii INTRODUCTION. 

of literary thought, although it remained a plaything for the 
idle hours of writers whose business was with occasional 
verse, social satire, heroic drama, or the comedy of a " Utopia 
of gallantry." To Dorset, Sedley, Rochester, and Aphara 
'Behn, a dissolute, cynical, godless rout of Comus — ■ even to 
^^ryden himself — a lyric is a love-song and nothing more. 
It may be languishing or disdainful, passionate or satirical ; 
whether frank or indirect in its animalism, the subject is 
ever love, or what went by that much-abused name in the 
reign of the Merry Monarch. Although the true note recurs 
occasionally in the faltering quavers of Anne, Marchioness 
of Wharton, or the stronger tones of Katherine Philips, John 
Wilson the dramatist, or John Oldmixon, it is not too much 
to say that the lyric had all but disappeared from English 
literature before the year 1700. A style the essence of 
which is surprise, which demands the snap of the cracker of 
wit in every couplet and yet maintains a rigid adherence to 
conventions in metre, phrase, and manner, is precisely the 
style to destroy the lyric, the soul of which is its simplicity, 
artistic freedom, and inevitability. Aside from an occa- 
sional instance in which the poetry which was in the heart 
of John Dryden asserted itself, despite his sophistication and 
venal following of the lower tastes of his age, and aside 
from a few sincere and dainty little lyrics that Matthew 
Prior threw off in the intervals of his supposedly more valu- 
able labors in epic and occasional verse, there is scarcely a 
lyric of the last quarter of the seventeenth century, from the 
hand of those poets who were in the prevailing mode, which 
rings unmistakably true. When Congreve, after repeating 
the hackneyed comparison of the rise of the sun with the 
rising of Sabrina, distinguishes the effects of these two 
luminaries upon mankind by exclaiming 

How many by his warmth will live ! 
Hqw many will her coldness kill ! 



I.VTRODrCTlOiY. Ixix 

we are tickled with his wit, if we have not neard the thing 
too often. To be moved by the simple and beautiful expres- 
sion of an emotion which we are fain to repeat again and 
again because of the pleasure it gives us, is to be moved as 
poetry can move. To witness the pyrotechnics of the most 
consummate wit and ingenuity once is enough; the fuse and 
powder are consumed, and nothing but the dead design, sul- 
lied with smoke, is left. What is worse, we have not always 
the pyrotechnics of wit, but too commonly, in the lyric of 
this age, a false product written with the rhetorician's con- J 
descension to what he feels an inferior species of litera- 
ture, a condescension like to nothing but the contemporary 
attitude towards the inferior capacity and understanding of 
"females," with its mingled air of flattery and gallantry, 
itself an affront. Thus after a sojourn with the Elizabethan 
and seventeenth-century lyrists it becomes difficult to sup- 
port the insipidity of this later literature of Chloe, Celia, and j/ 
Dorinda, unless it be seasoned with the salt of cynicism, 
and then the product turns out to be something else, a some- 
thing, whatever its merit, forever untranslatable into the 
terms of true poetry. 



1 



SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



>>«<c 



Ben Jon son, Pan's Anniversary^ 
1 63 1; acted before 1625. 

THE SHEPHERDS' HOLIDAY. 

Thus, thus begin the yearly rites 
Are due to Pan on these bright nights ; 
His morn now riseth and invites 
To sports, to dances, and delights : 

All envious and profane, away, 5 

This is the shepherds' holiday. 

Strew, strew the glad and smiling ground 

With every flower, yet not confound ; 

The primrose-drop, the spring's own spouse, 

Bright day's-eyes and the lips of cows, 10 

The garden-star, the queen of May, 

The rose, to crown the holiday. 

Drop, drop, you violets ; change your hues, 

Now red, now pale, as lovers use ; 

And in your death go out as well ^5 

As when you lived unto the smell. 

That from your odor all may say. 

This is the shepherds' holiday. 



2 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

HYMN 

TO PAN. 

Of Pan we sing, the best of singers, Pan, 

That taught us swains how first to tune our lays, 

And on the pipe more airs than Phoebus can. 

Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his praise. 

Of Pan we sing, the best of leaders, Pan, 5 

That leads the Naiads and the Dryads forth ; 

And to their dances more than Hermes can. 

Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his worth. 

Of Pan we sing, the best of hunters. Pan, 

That drives the hart to seek unused ways, lo 

And in the chase more than Silvanus can. 

Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his praise. 

Of Pan we sing, the best of shepherds. Pan, 

That keeps our flocks and us, and both leads forth 
To better pastures than great Pales can. 15 

Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his worth ; 
And, while his powers and praises thus we sing. 
The valleys let rebound and all the rivers ring. 



Thomas Dekker, The Sun's 
Darling, 1656 ; written before 
1625. 

COUNTRY GLEE. 

Haymakers, rakers, reapers, and mowers, 

Wait on your summer-queen ; 
Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers. 

Daffodils strew the green ; 



THOMAS DEKKER. 3 

Sing, dance, and play, 5 

'T is holiday ; 
The sun does bravely shine 
On our ears of corn. 

Rich as a pearl 

Comes every girl : lo 

This is mine ! this is mine ! this is mine ! 
Let us die, ere away they be borne. 

Bow to the sun, to our queen, and that fair one 

Come to behold our sports : 
Each bonny lass here is counted a rare one, 15 

As those in princes' courts. 
These and we 
With country glee. 
Will teach the woods to resound, 

And the hills with echo's holloa : 20 

Skipping lambs 
Their bleating dams, 
'Mongst kids shall trip it round : 
For joy thus our wenches we follow. 

Wind, jolly huntsmen, your neat bugles shrilly, 25 

Hounds make a lusty cry ; 
Spring up, you falconers, the partridges freely, 
Then let your brave hawks fly. 
Horses amain, 

Over ridge, over plain, 3® 

The dogs have the stag in chase : 
'T is a sport to content a king. 

So ho ho ! through the skies 
How the proud bird flies. 
And sousing kills with a grace ! 35 

Now the deer falls ; hark, how they ring ! 



SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

CAST AWAY CARE. 

Cast away care, he that loves sorrow 
Lengthens not a day, nor can buy to-morrow ; 
Money is trash ; and he that will spend it, 
Let him drink merrily, Fortune will send it. 

Merrily, merrily, merrily, O ho ! 5 

Play it off stiffly, we may not part so. 

Wine is a charm, it heats the blood too, 
Cowards it will arm, if the wine be good too ; 
Quickens the wit, and makes the back able, 
Scorns to submit to the watch or constable. lo 

Merrily, merrily, merrily, O ho ! 

Play it off stiffly, we may not part so. 

Pots fly about, give us more liquor, 
Brothers of a rout, our brains will flow quicker ; 
Empty the cask ; score up, we care not ; iS 

Fill all the pots again ; drink on and spare not. 

Merrily, merrily, merrily, O ho ! 

Play it off stiffly, we may not part so. 



From Christ Church MS. I. 4. 78 ; 
date uncertain. 

TO TIME. 

Victorious Time, whose winged feet do fly 
More swift than eagles in the azure sky, 
Haste to thy prey, why art thou tardy now 
When all things to thy powerful fate do bow ? 
O give an end to cares and killing fears. 
Shake thy dull sand, unravel those few years 



THOMAS MAY. 



Are yet untold, since nought but discontents 

Clouds all our earthly joys with sad laments, 

That, when thy nimble hours shall cease to be, 

We may be crowned with blest eternity. lo 



Thomas May, The Old Couple, 
1658; acted 1625. 

LOVE'S PRIME. 

Dear, do not your fair beauty wrong 
In thinking still you are too young ; 
The rose and lily in your cheek 
Flourish, and no more ripening seek ; 
Those flaming beams shot from your eye 
Do show love's midsummer is nigh ; 
Your cherry-lip, red, soft, and sweet, 
Proclaims such fruit for taste is meet ; 
Love is still young, a buxom boy, 
And younglings are allowed to toy ; 
Then lose no time, for Love hath wings 
And flies away from aged things. 



Edmund Waller, Poems, 1645; 
written 1627. 

SONG. 

Stay, Phoebus, stay ! 
The world to which you fly so fast. 

Conveying day 
From us to them, can pay your haste 
With no such object, nor salute your rise 
With no such wonder as De Mornay's eyes. 



SEVEXTEEXTH CEXTURY LYRICS. 

Well does this prove 
The error of those antique books 

Which made you move 
About the world : her charming looks 
\A'ould fix your beams, and make it ever day, 
Did not the rolling earth snatch her a^va3^ 



James Shirley. The IVitty Fair 
Oue, 1633 ; acted 162S. 

LOVE'S HUE AND CRY. 

In Love's name you are charged hereby 

To make a speedy hue and cry 

After a face, who t' other day, 

Came and stole my heart away. 

For your directions in brief 5 

These are best marks to know the thief : 

Her hair a net of beams would prove 

Strong enough to captive Jove 

Playing the eagle ; her clear brow 

Is a comely field of snow ; i» 

A sparkling eye, so pure a gray 

As when it shines it needs no day ; 

Ivory dwelleth on her nose : 

Lilies, married to the rose. 

Have made her cheek the nuptial bed; 15 

[Her] lips betray their virgin's weed, 

As they only blushed for this, 

That they one another kiss. 

But observe, beside the rest, 

You shall know this felon best 20 



JOHX FORD. 7 

By her tongue ; for if your ear 

Shall once a heavenly music hear, 

Such as neither gods nor men 

But from that voice shall hear again, 

That, that is she, O take her t'ye, 25 

None can rock heaven asleep but she. 



John Ford, The Lover's Melan- 
choly, 1629; acted 1628. 

FLY HENCE, SHADOWS. 

Fly hence, shadows, that do keep 
Watchful sorrows charmed in sleep. 
Though the eyes be overtaken, 
Yet the heart doth ever waken 
Thoughts, chained up in busy snares 
Of continual woes and cares : 
Love and griefs are so exprest 
As they rather sigh than rest. 
Fly hence, shadows, that do keep 
Watchful sorrows charmed in sleep. 

John Ford, The Broken Heart, 
1633 ; acted about 1629. 

A BRIDAL SONG. 

Comforts lasting, loves increasing, 
Like soft hours never ceasing ; 
Plenty's pleasure, peace complying, 
Without jars, or tongues envying ; 
Hearts by holy union wedded, 
More than theirs by custom bedded ; 



SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Fruitful issues ; life so graced, 

Not by age to be defaced ; 

Budding as the year ensu'th, 

Every spring another youth : lo 

All what thought can add beside, 

Crown this bridegroom and this bride. 

SONG. 

O, NO more, no more, too late 

Sighs are spent; the burning tapers 

Of a life as chaste as Fate, 
Pure as are unwritten papers, 

Are burnt out ; no heat, no light 5 

Now remains ; 't is ever night. 

Love is dead ; let lovers' eyes. 

Locked in endless dreams, 

Th' extremes of all extremes, 
Ope no more, for now Love dies. lo 

Now Love dies — implying 
Love's martyrs must be ever, ever dying. 

DIRGE. 

Glories, pleasures, pomps, delights, and ease 
Can but please 
Outward senses, when the mind 
Is untroubled or by peace refined. 
Crowns may flourish and decay, 5 

Beauties shine, but fade away. 
Youth may revel, yet it must 
Lie down in a bed of dust. 
Earthly honors flow and waste. 
Time alone doth change and last. lo 



THOMAS GOFFE. 

Sorrows mingled with contents prepare 
Rest for care ; 
Love only reigns in death ; though art 
Can find no comfort for a broken heart. 



Thomas Goffe, The Careless 
Shepherdess, 1656; written 
before 1629. 

SYLVIA'S BOWER. 

Come, shepherds, come, impale your brows 
With garlands of the choicest flowers 

The time allows ; 
Come, nymphs, decked in your dangling hair, 
And unto Sylvia's shady bower 5 

With haste repair ; 
Where you shall see chaste turtles play, 
And nightingales make lasting May, 
As if old Time his useful mind 
To one delighted season had confined. 10 



Robert Herrick, Hesperides, 
1648 ; written before 1629. 

TO DIANEME. 

Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes, 
Which, star-like, sparkle in their skies ; 
Nor be you proud that you can see 
All hearts your captives, yours yet free ; 



10 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Be you not proud of that rich hair, 5 

Which wantons with the love-sick air; 

Whenas that ruby which you wear, 

Sunk from the tip of your soft ear, 

Will last to be a precious stone. 

When all your world of beauty 's gone. lo 

CORINNA'S GOING A-MAYING. 

Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morn 
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. 

See how Aurora throws her fair 

Fresh-quilted colors through the air ! 

Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see 5 

The dew bespangling herb and tree. 
Each flower has wept, and bowed toward the east, 
Above an hour since ; yet you not drest, 

Nay ! not so much as out of bed? 

When all the birds have matins said, lo 

And sung their thankful hymns ; 'tis sin, 

Nay, profanation to keep in, 
Whenas a thousand virgins on this day 
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May. 

Rise, and put on your foliage, and be seen 15 

To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green 

And sweet as Flora. Take no care 

For jewels for your gown or hair ; 

Fear not, the leaves will strew 

Gems in abundance upon you ; 20 

Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, 
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept ; 

Come, and receive them while the light 

Hangs on the dew-locks of the night, 



ROBERT HER RICK. 11 

And Titan on the eastern hill 25 

Retires himself, or else stands still 
Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying : 
Few beads are best, when once we go a-Maying. 

Come, my Corinna, come ; and coming mark 

How each field turns a street, each street a park 30 

Made green, and trimmed with trees ; see how 

Devotion gives each house a bough 

Or branch ; each porch, each door, ere this 

An ark, a tabernacle is. 
Made up of white-thorn neatly enterwove, 35 

As if here were those cooler shades of love. 

Can such delights be in the street 

And open fields, and we not see 't ? 

Come, we '11 abroad, and let 's obey 

The proclamation made for May, 40 

And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ; 
But, my Corinna, come, let 's go a-Maying. 

There 's not a budding boy or girl, this day, 
But is got up and gone to bring in May. 

A deal of youth, ere this, is come 45 

Back, and with white-thorn laden home. 

Some have dispatched their cakes and cream, 

Before that we have left to dream ; 
And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth. 
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth. 5° 

Many a green-gown has been given ; 

Many a kiss, both odd and even : 

Many a glance too has been sent 

From out the eye, love's firmament ; 
Many a jest told of the key's betraying 55 

This night, and locks picked, yet w' are not a-Maying. 



12 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Come, let us go, while we are in our prime, 
And take the harmless folly of the time. 

We shall grow old apace and die 

Before we know our liberty. 60 

Our life is short, and our days run 

As fast away as does the sun, 
And as a vapor, or a drop of rain. 
Once lost can ne'er be found again ; 

So when or you or I are made 65 

A fable, song, or fleeting shade, 

All love, all liking, all delight. 

Lies drown'd with us in endless night. 
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying ; 
Come, my Corinna, come, let 's go a-Maying. 70 

NIGHT PIECE, TO JULIA. 

Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, 
The shooting stars attend thee. 

And the elves also. 

Whose little eyes glow 
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. 5 

No will-o'-th'-wisp mislight thee ; 
Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee ; 

But on, on thy way, 

Not making a stay, 
Since ghost there 's none to affright thee. 10 

Let not the dark thee cumber ; 
What though the moon does slumber ; 

The stars of the night 

Will lend thee their light. 
Like tapers clear without number. 15 



ROBERT HERRICK. 13 

Then Julia, let me woo thee, 
Thus, thus to come unto me : 

And when I shall meet 

Thy silv'ry feet, 
My soul I '11 pour into thee. 20 

TO ELECTRA. 

I DARE not ask a kiss, 

I dare not beg a smile, 
Lest having that, or this, 

I might grow proud the while. 

No, no, the utmost share 5 

Of my desire shall be 
Only to kiss that air. 

That lately kissed thee. 



Robert Herrick, in Wifs Rec- 
reations, ed. 1641 ; written be- 
fore 1629. 



A HYMN TO LOVE. 

I WILL confess 

With cheerfulness, 
Love is a thing so likes me. 

That, let her lay 

On me all day, 
I '11 kiss the hand that strikes me. 

I will not, I, 

Now blubb'ring cry : 



14 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

' It, ah ! too late repents me 

That I did fall lo 

To love at all, 
Since love so much contents me.' 

No, no, I '11 be 

In fetters free ; 
While others they sit wringing 15 

Their hands for pain, 

I '11 entertain 
The wounds of love with singing. 

With flowers and wine, 

And cakes divine, 2° 

To strike me I will tempt thee; 

Which done, no more 

I '11 come before 
Thee and thine altars empty. 



Thomas Dekker, London's 
Te?Hpe, 1629. 

SONG OF THE CYCLOPS. 

Brave iron, brave hammer, from your sound 

The art of music has her ground ; 

On the anvil thou keep'st time, 

Thy knick-a-knock is a smith's best chime. 

Yet thwick-a-thwack, thwick, thwack-a-thwack, thwack, 5 

Make our brawny sinews crack : 

Then pit-a-pat, pat, pit-a-pat, pat. 

Till thickest bars be beaten flat. 



THOMAS DEKKER. 15 

\\*e shoe the horses of the sun, 

Harness the dragons of the moon ; lo 

Forge Cupid's quiver, bow, and arrows, 
And our dame's coach that 's drawn with sparrows. 
Till thwick-a-thwack, etc. 

Jove's roaring cannons and his rammers 
We beat out with our Lemnian hammers ; 15 

Mars his gauntlet, helm, and spear, 
And Gorgon shield are all made here. 
Till thwick-a-thwack, etc. 

The grate which, shut, the day outbars. 
Those golden studs which nail the stars, 20 

The globe's case and the axle-tree, 
Who can hammer these but we ? 
Till thwick-a-thwack, etc. 

A warming-pan to heat earth's bed. 

Lying i' th' frozen zone half-dead ; 25 

Hob-nails to serve the man i' th' moon, 

And sparrowbills to clout Pan's shoon, 

Whose work but ours ? 

Till thwick-a-thwack, etc. 

Venus' kettles, pots, and pans 3° 

We make, or else she brawls and bans ; 
Tongs, shovels, andirons have their places, 
Else she scratches all our faces. 

Till thwick-a-thwack, thwick, tl\wack-a-thwack, thwack. 

Make our brawny sinews crack : 35 

Then pit-a-pat, pat, pit-a-pat, pat, 

Till thickest bars be beaten flat. 



16 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Ben Jonson, The New Inn, 1631 
acted 1629. 

PERFECT BEAUTY. 

It was a beauty that I saw 

So pure, so perfect, as the frame 
Of all the universe was lame 

To that one figure, could I draw. 

Or give least line of it a law. 

A skein of silk without a knot, 

A fair march made without a halt, 

A curious form without a fault, 

A printed book without a blot. 
All beauty, and without a spot. 



From Dr. John Wilson's Cheer- 
ful Airs or Ballads., 1660 ; writ- 
ten before 1630. 

THE EXPOSTULATION. 

Greedy lover, pause awhile. 
And remember that a smile 

Heretofore 
Would have made thy hopes a feast ; 

Which is more 
Since thy diet was increased. 
Than both looks and language too. 
Or the face itself, can do. 

Such a province is my hand 
As, if it thou couldst command 

Heretofore, 
There thy lips would seem to dwell; 



JOHN WILSON. 17 

Which is more, 
Ever since they sped so well, 
Than they can be brought to do 15 

By my neck and bosom too. 

If the centre of my breast, 
A dominion unpossessed 

Heretofore, 
May thy wandering thoughts suffice, 20 

Seek no more, 
And my heart shall be thy prize : 
So thou keep above the line. 
All the hemisphere is thine. 

If the flames of love were pure 25 

Which by oath thou didst assure 

Heretofore, 
Gold that goes into the clear 

Shines the more 
When it leaves again the fire : 30 

Let not then those looks of thine 
Blemish what they should refine. 

I have cast into the fire 
Almost all thou couldst desire 

Heretofore ; 35 

But I see thou art to crave 

More and more. 
Should I cast in all I have, 
So that I were ne'er so free. 
Thou wouldst burn, though not for me. 40 



18 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



LOVE'S IDOLATRY. 

When I behold my mistress' face, 
Where beauty hath her dwelling-place, 
And see those seeing stars her eyes. 
In whom love's fire for ever lies, 
And hear her witty, charming words 
Her sweet tongue to mine ear affords, 
Methinks he wants wit, ears, and eyes 
Whom love makes not idolatrise. 



LOVE WITH EYES AND HEART. 

When on mine eyes her eyes first shone, 

I all amazed 

Steadily gazed, 
And she to make me more amazed, 
So caught, so wove, four eyes in one 
As who had with advisement seen us 
Would have admired love's equal force between us. 

But treason in those friend-like eyes, 

My heart first charming 

And then disarming. 
So maimed it, e'er it dreamed of harming, 
As at her mercy now it lies, 
And shews me, to my endless smart. 
She loved but with her eyes, I with my heart, 



ANONYMOUS. 19 



From Egerton MS., 2013; author 
and date unknown. 



WE MUST NOT PART AS OTHERS DO. 

We must not part as others do, 
With sighs and tears as we were two. 
Though with these outward forms we part, 
We keep each other in our heart. 
What search hath found a being, where 
I am not, if that thou be there t 

True Love hath wings, and can as soon 
Survey the world, as sun and moon ; 
And everywhere our triumphs keep 
Over absence, which makes others weep: 
By which alone a power is given 
To live on earth, as they in heaven. 



STAY, STAY, OLD TIME. 

Stay, stay, old Time ! repose thy restless wings, 

Pity thyself, though thou obdurate be. 

And wilfully wear'st out all other things. 

Stay, and behold a face, which, but to see. 

Will make thee shake off half a world of days, 5 

And wearied pinions feather with new plumes. 

Lay down thy sandy glass, that never stays, 

And cruel crooked scythe, that all consumes. 

To gaze on her, more lovely than Apollo. 

Renew thyself, continue still her youth, 10 

O, stay with her, (and him no longer follow) 

That is as beauteous as thy darling Truth. 



20 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Robert Herrick, in Wifs Recrea- 
tion^ ed. 1641 ; written before 1630. 

UPON A MAID. 

Here she lies, in bed of spice, 
Fair as Eve in Paradise ; 
For her beauty, it was such 
Poets could not praise too much. 
Virgins, come, and in a ring 
Her supremest requiem sing ; 
Then depart, but see ye tread 
Lightly, lightly o'er the dead. 



John Milton, Poems both Eng- 
lish and Latin^ 1645; written 
1629-31. 

ON TIME. 
TO BE SET ON A CLOCK-CASE. 

Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race ! 
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping Hours, 
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace. 
And glut thyself with what thy womb devours. 
Which is no more than what is false and vain 

And merely mortal dross ; 

So little is our loss. 

So little is thy gain ! 
For whenas each thing bad thou hast entombed, 
And, last of all, thy greedy self consumed. 
Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss 

With an individual kiss. 



JOHN MILTON. 21 

And joy shall overtake us as a flood, 
When everything that is sincerely good 

And perfectly divine, 15 

With Truth, and Peace, and Love, shall ever shine 

About the supreme throne 
Of him, t' whose happy-making sight alone 
When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb 

Then, all this earthly grossness quit, 20 

Attired with stars we shall for ever sit, 
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O Time ! 

SONG ON MAY MORNING. 

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, 
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her 
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws 
The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. 

Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire 5 

Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; 

Woods and groves are of thy dressing. 

Hill and dale both boast thy blessing. 
Thus we salute thee with our early song. 
And welcome thee, and wish thee long. 10 

John Milton, in Mr. William 
Shakespeare' s Comedies, Histo- 
ries, and Tragedies, ed. 1632; 
written 1630. 

AN EPITAPH ON THE ADMIRABLE DRAMATIC 
POET, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 

What need my Shakespeare for his honored bones 

The labor of an age in piled stones ? 

Or that his hallowed relics should be hid 

Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? * 



22 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, 5 

What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? 

Thou in our wonder and astonishment, 

Hast built thyself a livelong monument. 

For whilst to the shame of slow-endeavoring art 

Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart lo 

Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book 

Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ; 

Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, 

Dost make us marble with too much conceiving; 

And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie, '5 

That kings for such a tomb would wish to die. 



John Milton, Poems both Evglish 
and Latin., 1645; ^^'ritten 1630-31. 

SONNETS. 



TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 

O NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray 
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still ; 
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill. 
While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. 
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, 
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, 
Portend success in love ; O, if Jove's will 
Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay. 
Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate 
Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh; 
As thou from year to year hast sung too late 
For my relief, yet hadst no reason why: 
Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his mate. 
Both them I serve, and of their train am I. 



PHILIP MASSINGER. 23 

11. 

ON HIS BEING ARRIVED TO THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE. 

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, 

Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year ! 

My hasting days fly on with full career, 

But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th. 

Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, 5 

That I to manhood am arrived so near; 

And inward ripeness doth much less appear, 

That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th. 

Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, 

It shall be still in strictest measure even lo 

To that same lot, however mean or high. 

Toward which Time leads me, and the will of heaven : 

All is, if I have grace to use it so. 

As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye. 



Philip Massinger, T/ie Emperor 
of the East, 1632 ; acted 1631. 

DEATH INVOKED. 

Why art thou slow, thou rest of trouble, Death, 

To stop a wretch's breath. 
That calls on thee, and offers her sad heart 

A prey unto thy dart ? 
I am nor young nor fair ; be, therefore, bold : 

Sorrow hath made me old. 
Deformed, and wrinkled ; all that I can crave 

Is quiet in my grave. 



24 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Such as live happy, hold long life a jewel ; 

But to me thou art cruel lo 

If thou end not my tedious misery 

And I soon cease to be. 
Strike, and strike home, then ! pity unto me, 
In one short hour's delay, is tyranny. 



Richard Brome, The Northern 
Lass, 1632; written 1631. 

HUMILITY. 

Nor Love nor Fate dare I accuse 

For that my love did me refuse, 

But O ! mine own unworthiness 

That durst presume so mickle bliss. 

It was too much for me to love 5 

A man so like the gods above: 

An angel's shape, a saint-like voice, 

Are too divine for human choice. 

had I wisely given my heart 

For to have loved him but in part ; 10 

Sought only to enjoy his face, 

Or any one peculiar grace 

Of foot, of hand, of lip, or eye, — 

1 might have lived where now I die: 

But I, presuming all Xo choose, 15 

Am now condemned all to lose. 



RICHARD BRATHWAITE. 25 

Richard Brathwaite, The Eng- 
lish Gentlewoman^ 1631. 

MOUNTING HYPERBOLES. 

Skin more pure than Ida's snow, 

Whiter far than Moorish milk, 

Sweeter than ambrosia too, 

Softer than the Paphian silk, 

Indian plumes or thistle-down, 5 

Or May-blossoms newly blown, 

Is my mistress rosy-pale. 

Adding beauty to her veil. 



James Mabbe, Celestina, 1631. 
NOW SLEEP, AND TAKE THY REST. 

Now sleep, and take thy rest. 

Once grieved and pained wight, 
Since she now loves thee best 

Who is thy heart's delight. 
Let joy be thy soul's guest. 

And care be banished quite, 
Since she hath thee expressed 

To be her favourite. 

WAITING. 



You birds whose warblings prove 

Aurora draweth near. 
Go fly and tell my love 

That I expect him here. 



26 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

The night doth posting move, 
Yet comes he not again : 

God grant some other love 
Do not my love detain. 



AuRELiAN TowNSEND, Albion's 
Traimph, 1631-32. 

MERCURY COMPLAINING. 

Mercury. 
What makes me so unnimbly rise, 

That did descend so fleet ? 
There is no uphill in the skies, 

Clouds stay not feathered feet. 

Chorus. 
Thy wings are singed, and thou canst fly 
But slowly now, swift Mercury. 

Mercury. 
Some lady here is sure to blame. 

That from Love's starry skies 
Hath shot some beam or sent some flame 

Like lightning from her eyes. 

Chorus. 
Tax not the stars with what the sun, 
Too near approached, incensed, hath done. 



Mercury. 
I '11 roll me in Aurora's dew 
Or lie in Tethys' bed, 



WALTER PORTER. 27 

Or from cool Iris beg a few 15 

Pure opal showers new shed. 

Chorus. 

Nor dew, nor showers, nor sea can slake 
Thy quenchless heat, but Lethe's lake. 



From Walter Porter's Madri- 
gals and Airs, 1632. 

LOVE IN THY YOUTH. 

Love in thy youth, fair maid ; be wise. 

Old Time will make thee colder. 
And though each morning new arise 

Yet we each day grow older. 
Thou as heaven art fair and young, 

Thine eyes like twin stars shining : 
But ere another day be sprung, 

All these will be declining ; 
Then winter comes with all his fears, 

And all thy sweets shall borrow; 
Too late then wilt thou shower thy tears, 

And I too late shall sorrow. 

DISDAIN RETURNED. 

He that loves a rosy cheek. 

Or a coral lip admires, 
Or from starlike eyes doth seek 

Fuel to maintain his fires ; 
As old Time makes these decay, 
So his flames must waste away. 



28 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

But a smooth and steadfast mind, 
Gentle thoughts and calm desires, 

Hearts with equal love combined, 

Kindle never-dying fires. lo 

Where these are not, I despise 

Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes. 

No tears, Celia, now shall win 

My resolved heart to return; 
I have searched thy soul within, 15 

And find naught but pride and scorn; 
I have learned thy arts, and now 

Can disdain as much as thou. 
Some power, in my revenge, convey 
That love to her I cast away. 20 



Peter Hausted, The Rival 
Friends, 1632. 

HAVE PITY, GRIEF. 

Have pity. Grief ; I cannot pay 

The tribute which I owe thee, tears; 
Alas those fountains are grown dry, 
And 't is in vain to hope supply 
From others' eyes ; for each man bears 
Enough about him of his own 
To spend his stock of tears upon. 

Woo then the heavens, gentle Love, 
To melt a cloud for my relief. 

Or woo the deep, or woo the grave; 
Woo what thou wilt, so I may have 



WILLIAM HABINGTON. 29 

Wherewith to pay my debt, for Grief 
Has vowed, unless I quickly pay, 
To take both life and love away. 



William Habington, Castara, 
Part I, ed. 1634; written about 
1632. 

TO ROSES 

IN THE BOSOM OF CASTARA. 

Ye blushing virgins happy are 

In the chaste nunn'ry of her breasts, 

For he 'd prophane so chaste a fair 

Who e'er should call them Cupid's nests. 

Transplanted thus, how bright ye grow, 5 

How rich a perfume do ye yield ! 
In some close garden, cowslips so 

Are sweeter than i' th' open field. 

In those white cloisters live secure 

From the rude blasts of wanton breath, 10 

Each hour more innocent and pure, 

Till you shall wither into death. 

Then that which living gave you room 

Your glorious sepulchre shall be. 
There wants no marble for a tomb, ^5 

Whose breast hath marble been to me. 



30 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

UPON CASTARA'S DEPARTURE. 

Vows are vain; no suppliant breath 

Stays the speed of swift-heeled Death. 

Life with her is gone and I 

Learn but a new way to die. 

See the flowers condole, and all 5 

Wither in my funeral. 

The bright lily, as if day, 

Parted with her, fades away; 

Violets hang their heads and lose 

All their beauty ; that the rose lo 

A sad part in sorrow bears, 

Witness all those dewy tears. 

Which as pearl, or diamond like, 

Swell upon her blushing cheek. 

All things mourn ; but O behold 15 

How the withered marigold 

Closeth up now she is gone. 

Judging her the setting sun. 

Castara, Part II, ed. 1634. 

TO CASTARA IN A TRANCE. 

Forsake me not so soon ; Castara stay, 

And as I break the prison of my clay, 

I '11 fill the canvas with m' expiring breath 

And with thee sail o'er the vast main of death. 

Some cherubim thus as we pass shall play: 5 

' Go happy twins of love '; the courteous sea 

Shall smooth her wrinkled brow; the winds shall sleep 

Or only whisper music to the deep. 

Every ungentle rock shall melt away. 

The sirens sing to please, not to betray, 10 



WILLIAM BASING TON. 31 

Th' indulgent sky shall smile; each starry choir 
Contend which shall afford the brighter fire; 
While Love, the pilot, steers his course so even, 
Ne'er to cast anchor till we reach at heaven. 



AGAINST THEM THAT LAY UNCHASTITY TO 
THE SEX OF WOMAN. 

They meet with but unwholesome springs 

And summers which infectious are, 
They hear but when the mermaid sings, 

And only see the falling star, 

Who ever dare 5 

Affirm no woman chaste and fair. 

Go cure your fevers, and you '11 say 
The dog-days scorch not all the year; 

In copper mines no longer stay 

But travel to the west and there lo 

The right ones see. 
And grant all gold 's not alchemy. 

What madman 'cause the glow-worm's flame 
Is cold, swears there 's no warmth in fire ? 

'Cause some make forfeit of their name 15 

And slave themselves to man's desire. 

Shall the sex, free 
From guilt, damned to bondage be ? 

Nor grieve, Castara, though 't were frail. 

Thy virtue then would brighter shine, 20 

When thy example should prevail 
And every woman's faith be thine : 

And were there none, 
'T is majesty to rule alone. 



32 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

George Herbert, The Temple, 
1633; written between 1630 and 
1633- 

THE ALTAR. 

A BROKEN altar, Lord, thy servant rears, 
Made of a heart, and cemented with tears, 
Whose parts are as thy hand did frame; 
No workman's tool hath touched the same. 

A heart alone 5 

Is such a stone, 
As nothing but 
Thy power doth cut. 
Wherefore each part 

Of my hard heart 10 

Meets in this frame, 
To praise thy name : 
That if I chance to hold my peace 
These stones to praise thee may not cease. 
O, let thy blessed sacrifice be mine, 15 

And sanctify this altar to be thine! 

EASTER WINGS. 

Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store, 
Though foolishly he lost the same, 
Decaying more and more, 
Till he became 

Most poor : 5 

With thee 
O let me rise. 
As larks, harmoniously. 
And sing this day thy victories : 
Then shall the fall further the flight in me. i® 



GEORGE HERBERT. 33 

My tender age in sorrow did begin; 

And still with sicknesses and shame 
Thou didst so punish sin, 
That I became 

Most thin. 15 

With thee 
Let me combine, 
And feel this day thy victory; 
For if I imp my wing on thine, 
Affliction shall advance the flight in me. 20 



EMPLOYMENT. 

If as a flower doth spread and die, 
Thou wouldst extend me to some good, 
Before I were by frost's extremity 
Nipt in the bud; 

The sweetness and the praise were thine ; 5 

But the extension and the room 
Which in thy garland I should fill, were mine 
At thy great doom. 

For as thou dost impart thy grace 
The greater shall our glory be. 10 

The measure of our joys is in this place, 
The stuff with thee. 

Let me not languish then, and spend 
A life as barren to thy praise 
As is the dust, to which that life doth tend, 15 

But with delays. 



34 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

All things are busy; only I 
Neither bring honey with the bees, 
Nor flowers to make that, nor the husbandry 

To water these. 20 

I am no link of thy great chain, 
But all my company is a weed. 
Lord, place me in thy consort ; give one strain 
To my poor reed. 

VIRTUE. 

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright. 

The bridal of the earth and sky ; 
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night; 

For thou must die. 

Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, 5 

Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye; 
Thy root is ever in its grave. 

And thou must die. 

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, 

A box where sweets compacted lie; 10 

My music shows ye have your closes, 
And all must die. 

Only a sweet and virtuous soul, 

Like seasoned timber, never gives ; 
But, though the whole world turn to coal, 15 

Then chiefly lives. 

THE QUIP. 

The merry World did on a day 
With his train-bands and mates agree 



GEORGE HERBERT. 35 

To meet together where I lay, 
And all in sport to jeer at me. 

First, Beauty crept into a rose, 5 

Which when I pluckt not, ' Sir,' said she, 
' Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those ? ' 
But thou shalt answer. Lord, for me. 

Then Money came, and chinking still, 

'What tune is this, poor man ? ' said he; 10 

' I heard in music you had skill : ' 

But thou shalt answer. Lord, for me. 

Then came brave Glory, puffing by 

In silks that whistled, who but he ? 

He scarce allowed me half an eye: 15 

But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. 

Then came quick Wit and Conversation, 

And he would needs a comfort be, 

And, to be short, make an oration: 

But thou shalt answer. Lord, for me. 20 

Yet when the hour of thy design 
To answer these fine things shall come. 
Speak not at large, say, I am thine, 
And then they have their answer home. 

FRAILTY. 

Lord, in my silence how do I despise 

What upon trust 
Is styled honor, riches, or fair eyes, 

But is fair dust ! 



36 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

I surname them gilded clay, 
Dear earth, fine grass or hay ; 
In all, I think my foot doth ever tread 
Upon their head. 

But when I view abroad both regiments, 

The world's and thine, 
Thine clad with simpleness and sad events, 
The other fine, 
Full of glory and gay weeds, 
Brave language, braver deeds. 
That which was dust before doth quickly rise. 
And prick mine eyes. 

O, brook not this, lest if what even now 

My foot did tread 
Affront those joys wherewith thou didst endow 
And long since wed 
My poor soul, even sick of love, — 
It may a Babel prove. 
Commodious to conquer heaven and thee, 
Planted in me. 



William Habington, Castara, 
Part I., ed. 1635; written about 

TO THE WORLD. 

THE PERFECTION OF LOVE. 

You who are earth and cannot rise 

Above your sense. 
Boasting the envied wealth which lies 
Bright in your mistress' lips or eyes. 
Betray a pitied eloquence. 



WILLIAM HABINGTON. 37 

That which doth join our souls, so Hght 

And quick doth move, 
That like the eagle in his flight 
It doth transcend all human sight, 

Lost in the element of love. lo 

You poets reach not this, who sing 

The praise of dust 
But kneaded, when by theft you bring 
The rose and lily from the spring 

T' adorn the wrinkled face of Lust. 15 

When we speak love, nor art nor wit 

We gloss upon; 
Our souls engender, and beget 
Ideas which you counterfeit 

In your dull propagation. 20 

While Time seven ages shall disperse 

We 11 talk of love. 
And when our tongues hold no commerce 
Our thoughts shall mutually converse, 

And yet the blood no rebel prove. 25 

And though we be of several kind, 

Fit for offence. 
Yet are we so by love refined 
From impure dross we are all mind: 

Death could not more have conquered sense. 3° 

How suddenly those flames expire 

Which scorch our clay ! 
Prometheus-like when we steal fire 
From heaven, 't is endless and entire, 

It may know age, but not decay. 35 



38 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

John Milton, Arcades, or the 
Arcadians, 1645; written 1634. 

SONG II. 

O'er the smooth enamelled green, 
Where no print of step hath been, 

Follow me, as I sing 

And touch the warbled string, 
Under the shady roof 
Of branching elm, star-proof, 

Follow me : 
I will bring you where she sits 
Clad in splendor as befits 

Her deity. 
Such a rural queen 
All Arcadia hath not seen. 



SONG III. 

Nymphs and shepherds, dance no more 

By sandy Ladon's lilied banks; 
On old Lyc£eus, or Cyllene hoar. 

Trip no more in twilight ranks; 
Though Erymanth your loss deplore, 5 

A better soil shall give ye thanks. 
From the stony Maenalus 
Bring your flocks, and live with us; 
Here ye shall have greater grace. 
To serve the Lady of this place. 10 

Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were. 
Yet Syrinx well might wait on her. 

Such a rural queen 

All Arcadia hath not seen. 



{ 



JOHN MILTON. 39 

, A Masque Presented at Ludlow 

Castle, 1634. 

SONG. 

Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen 
Within thy airy shell. 
By slow Meander's margent green. 
And in the violet-embroidered vale 

Where the love-lorn nightingale 5 

Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well : 
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair 
That likest thy Narcissus are ? 

O, if thou have 
Hid them in some flowery cave, 10 

Tell me but where, 
Sweet queen of parley, daughter of the sphere ! 
So mayst thou be translated to the skies. 
And give resounding grace to all heaven's harmonies. 

SONG. 

Spirit. Sabrina fair, 

Listen where thou art sitting 
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, 

In twisted braids of lilies knitting 
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair; 5 
Listen, for dear honor's sake, 
Goddess of the silver lake, 
Listen, and save. 

Listen, and appear to us, 

In name of great Oceanus; 10 

By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace. 

And Tethys' grave majestic pace; 

By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look^ 



40 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

And the Carpathian wizard's hook ; 
By scaly Triton's winding shell, 15 

And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell ; 
By Leucothea's lovely hands, 
And her son that rules the strands; 
By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet, 
And the songs of Sirens sweet ; 20 

By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, 
And fair Ligea's golden comb, 
Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks. 
Sleeking her soft alluring locks ; 
By all the nymphs that nightly dance 25 

Upon thy streams with wily glance : 
Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 
From thy coral-paven bed, 
And bridle in thy headlong wave. 
Till thou our summons answered have. 3° 

Listen and save. 
Sabrina rises, attended by Water-Nymphs, and sings. 
By the rushy-fringed bank. 
Where grows the willow and the osier dank. 

My sliding chariot stays. 
Thick set with agate, and the azurn sheen 35 
. Of turkis blue, and emerald green, 
That in the channel strays ; 
Whilst from off the waters fleet 
Thus I set my printless feet 
O'er the cowslip's velvet head, 4° 

That bends not as I tread. 
Gentle swain, at thy request 
I am here ! 
Spirit. Goddess dear. 

We implore thy powerful hand 45 

To undo the charmed band 



JOHN MILTON. 41 

Of true virgin here distressed 
Through the force, and through the wile 
Of unblest enchanter vile. 
Sabrina. Shepherd, 't is my office best 50 

To help ensnared chastity. 
Brightest Lady, look on me: 
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast 
Drops that from my fountain pure 
I have kept of precious cure; 55 

Thrice upon thy finger's tip. 
Thrice upon thy rubied lip : 
Next this marbled venomed seat, 
Smeared with gums of glutinous heat, 
I touch with chaste palms moist and cold. 60 
Now the spell hath lost his hold ; 
And I must haste ere morning hour 
To wait in Amphitrite's bower. 
Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat. 
Spirit. Virgin, daughter of Locrine, 

Sprung of old Anchises' line, 65 

May thy brimmed waves for this 

Their full tribute never miss 

From a thousand petty rills 

That tumble down the snowy hills: 

Summer drouth or singed air 70 

Never scorch thy tresses fair. 

Nor wet October's torrent flood 

Thy molten crystal fill with mud; 

May thy billows roll ashore 

The beryl and the golden ore; 75 

May thy lofty head be crowned 

With many a tower and terrace round, 

And here and there thy banks upon 

With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 



42 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

THE SPIRITS EPILOGUE. 

To the ocean now I fly, 
And those happy climes that he 
Where day never shuts his eye, 
Up in the broad fields of the sky. 
There I suck the liquid air, 5 

All amidst the gardens fair 
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three 
That sing about the golden tree. 
Along the crisped shades and bowers 
Revels the spruce and jocund Spring; lo 

The Graces and the rosy-bosomed Hours 
Thither all their bounties bring. 
There eternal summer dwells, 
And west-winds with musky wing 
About the cedarn alleys fling 15 

Nard and cassia's balmy smells. 
Iris there with humid bow 
Waters the odorous banks, that blow 
Flowers of more mingled hue 
Than her purfled scarf can shew, 20 

■ And drenches with Elysian dew 
(List, mortals, if your ears be true) 
Beds of hyacinth and roses. 
Where young Adonis oft reposes. 
Waxing well of his deep wound, 25 

In slumber soft, and on the ground 
Sadly sits th' Assyrian queen. 
But far above in spangled sheen. 
Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced, 
Holds his dear Psyche, sweet entranced 3° 

After her wandering labors long. 
Till free consent the gods among 



THOMAS CAREW. 43 

Make her his eternal bride, 

And from her fair unspotted side 

Two blissful twins are to be born, 35 

Youth and Joy : so Jove hath sworn. 

But now my task is smoothly done: 
I can fly, or I can run 
Quickly to the green earth's end, 
Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend, 40 

And from thence can soar as soon 
To the corners of the moon. 

Mortals, that would follow me, 
Love Virtue : she alone is free; 
She can teach ye how to climb 45 

Higher than the sphery chime; 
Or, if Virtue feeble were, 
Heaven itself would stoop to her. 



Thomas Carew, Poems, 1640; 
written 1634. 

THE MARIGOLD. 

Mark how the bashful morn, in vain, 

Courts the amorous marigold, 
With sighing blasts, and weeping rain; 

Yet she refuses to unfold. 
But when the planet of the day 5 

Approacheth with his powerful ray, 
Then she spreads, then she receives 
His warmer beams into her virgin leaves. 

So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boy ; 

If thy tears and sighs discover 10 



44 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Thy grief, thou never shalt enjoy 

The just reward of a bold lover. 

But when, with moving accents, thou 

Shalt constant faith and service vow, 

Thy Celia shall receive those charms 

With open ears and with unfolded arms. 



Thomas Randolph, Poems, with 
the Muses' Looking Glass, 1 638 ; 
written before 1634-35. 

AN ODE 

TO MASTER ANTHONY STAFFORD TO HASTEN HIM INTO 
THE COUNTRY. 

Come, spur away, 
I have no patience for a longer stay, 

But must go down, 
And leave the charge'ble noise of this great town. 

I will the country see, 5 

Where old simplicity. 
Though hid in gray, 
Doth look more gay 
Than foppery in plush and scarlet clad. 

Farewell, you city wits, that are 10 

Almost at civil war ; 
'T is time that I grow wise, when all the world grows mad. 

More of my days 
I will not spend to gain an idiot's praise ; 

Or to make sport 15 

For some slight puisne of the Inns-of-Court. 



THOMAS RANDOLPH. 45 

Then, worthy Stafford, say, 
How shall we spend the day ? 
With what delights 

Shorten the nights ? 20 

When from this tumult we are got secure, 

Where mirth with all her freedom goes, 
Yet shall no finger lose ; 
Where every word is thought, and every thought is pure. 

There from the tree 25 

We '11 cherries pluck, and pick the strawberry. 

And every day 
Go see the wholesome country girls make hay, 
Whose brown hath lovelier grace 
Than any painted face, 30 

That I do know 
Hyde Park can show. 
Where I had rather gain a kiss than meet 

(Though some of them in greater state 
Might court my love with plate) 35 

The beauties of the Cheap, and wives of Lombard Street. 

But think upon 
Some other pleasures : these to me are none. 

Why do I prate 
Of women, that are things against my fate? 40 

I never mean to wed 
That torture to my bed; 
My Muse is she 
My love shall be. 
Let clowns get wealth and heirs; when I am gone, 45 
And the great bugbear, grisly Death, 
Shall take this idle breath. 
If I a poem leave, that poem is my son. 



46 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Of this no more ; 
We'll rather taste the bright Pomona's store. 5° 

No fruit shall 'scape 
Our palates, from the damson to the grape. 
Then, full, we '11 seek a shade, 
And hear what music 's made; 
How Philomel 55 

Her tale doth tell, 
And how the other birds do fill the choir : 

The thrush and blackbird lend their throats. 
Warbling melodious notes; 
We will all sports enjoy which others but desire. 6o 

Ours is the sky. 
Where at what fowl we please our hawk shall fly; 

Nor will we spare 
To hunt the crafty fox or timorous hare ; 

But let our hounds run loose 65 

In any ground they '11 choose, 
The buck shall fall, 
The stag, and all: 
Our pleasures must from their own warrants be, 

For to my Muse, if not to me, 70 

I 'm sure all game is free: 
Heaven, earth, are all but parts of her great royalty. 

And when we mean 
To taste of Bacchus' blessings now and then, 

And drink by stealth 75 

A cup or two to noble Barkley's health, 

I '11 take my pipe and try 

The Phrygian melody; 

Which he that hears. 

Lets through his ears 80 



THOMAS RANDOLPH. 47 

A madness to distemper all the brain. 
Then I another pipe will take 
And Doric music make, 
To civilise with graver notes our wits again. 

TO ONE ADMIRING HERSELF IN A 
LOOKING-GLASS. 

Fair lady, when you see the grace 

Of beauty in your looking-glass: 

A stately forehead, smooth and high, 

And full of princely majesty: 

A sparkling eye, no gem so fair, 5 

Whose lustre dims the Cyprian star: 

A glorious cheek divinely sweet, 

Wherein both roses kindly meet: 

A cherry lip that would entice 

Even gods to kiss at any price : lo 

You think no beauty is so rare 

That with your shadow might compare ; 

That your reflection is alone 

The thing that men most dote upon. 

Madam, alas! your glass doth lie, 15 

And you are much deceived; for I 

A beauty know of richer grace 

(Sweet, be not angry) — 't is your face. 

Hence then, O, learn more mild to be, 

And leave to lay your blame on me; 20 

If me your real substance move. 

When you so much your shadow love, 

Wise Nature would not let your eye 

Look on her own bright majesty. 

Which had you once but gazed upon, 25 

You could, except yourself, love none: 



48 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

What then you cannot love, let me: 

That face I can, you cannot, see. 

Now you have what to love, you '11 say, 

What then is left for me, I pray ? 3° 

My face, sweetheart, if it please thee: 

That which you can, I cannot, see. 

So either love shall gain his due. 

Yours, sweet, in me, and mine in you. 



Richard Brathwaite, The Ar- 
cadian Princess, 1635. 

THEMISTA'S REPROOF. 

Like a top which runneth round 

And never winneth any ground ; 

Or th' dying scion of a vine 

That rather breaks than it will twine; 

Or th' sightless mole w^hose life is spent 

Divided from her element; 

Or plants removed from Tagus' shore 

Who never bloom nor blossom more; 

Or dark Cimmerians who delight 

In shady shroud of pitchy night; 

Or mopping apes who are possessed 

Their cubs are ever prettiest: 

So he who makes his own opinion 

To be his one and only minion. 

Nor will incline in any season 

To th' weight of proof or strength of reason, 

But prefers will precipitate 

'Fore judgment that 's deliberate ; 



EDMUND WALLER. 49 

He ne'er shall lodge within my roof 

Till, rectified by due reproof, 20 

He labor to reform this ill 

By giving way to others' will. 



Edmund Waller, Poems, 1645 ; 
written about 1635. 

TO MY YOUNG LADY LUCY SIDNEY. 

Why came I so untimely forth 
Into a world which, wanting thee, 

Could entertain us with no worth, 
Or shadow of felicity. 

That time should me so far remove 

From that which I was born to love ? 



Yet, fairest blossom, do not slight 

That age which you may know too soon; 

The rosy morn resigns her light 

And milder glory to the noon; 10 

And then what wonders shall you do, 

Whose dawning beauty warms us so! 

Hope waits upon the flowery prime ; 

And summer, though it be less gay 
Yet is not looked on as a time iS 

Of declination and decay; 
For with a full hand that does bring 
All that was promised by the spring. 



50 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

ON THE FRIENDSHIP BETWIXT SACCHARISSA 
AND AMORET. 

Tell me, lovely, loving pair, 

Why so kind and so severe ? 
Why so careless of our care, 

Only to yourselves so dear ? 

By this cunning change of hearts, 5 

You the power of Love control; 

While the boy's deluded darts 
Can arrive at neither soul. 

For in vain to either breast 

Still beguiled Love does come, . lo 

Where he finds a foreign guest : 

Neither of your hearts at home. 

Debtors thus with like design, 

When they never mean to pay, * 

That they may the law decline, 15 

To some friend make all away. 

Not the silver doves that fly, 

Yoked to Cytherea's car, 
Not the wings that lift so high 

And convey her son so far, 20 

Are so lovely, sweet, and fair, 

Or do more ennoble love, 
Are so choicely matched a pair. 

Or with more consent do move. 



EDMUND WALLER. 51 

TO AMORET. 

Fair ! that you may truly know, 
What you unto Thyrsis owe; 
I will tell you how I do 
Sacharissa love, and you. 

Joy salutes me when I set 5 

My blest eyes on Amoret : 
But with wonder I am strook, 
While I on the other look. 

If sweet Amoret complains, 
I have sense of all her pains : 10 

But for Sacharissa I 
Do not only grieve, but die. 

All that of myself is mine 
Lovely Amoret ! is thine. 

Sacharissa's captive fain 15 

Would untie his iron chain; 
And, those scorching beams to shun, 
To thy gentle shadow run. 

If the soul had free election 
To dispose of her affection ; 20 

I would not thus long have borne 
Haughty Sacharissa's scorn; 
But 't is sure some power above 
Which controls our will in love! 

If not a love, a strong desire 25 

To create and spread that fire 
In my breast, solicits me. 
Beauteous Amoret ! for thee. 

'T is amazement, more than love. 
Which her radiant eyes do move : 30 

If less splendor wait on thine. 
Yet they so benignly shine. 



52 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

I would turn my dazzled sight 

To behold their milder light. 

But as hard 't is to destroy 35 

That high flame, as to enjoy : 

Which how eas'ly I may do, 

Heaven (as eas'ly scaled) does know ! 

Amoret as sweet and good 
As the most deUcious food, 4° 

Which, but tasted, does impart 
Life and gladness to the heart ; 

Sacharissa's beauty 's wine, 
Which to madness doth incline : 
Such a liquor, as no brain 45 

That is mortal can sustain. 

Scarce can I to heaven excuse 
The devotion which I use 
Unto that adored dame : 

For 't is not unlike the same 5° 

Which I thither ought to send, 
So that if it could take end, 
'T would to heaven itself be due, 
To succeed her, and not you, 

Who already have of me 55 

All that 's not idolatry ; 
Which, though not so fierce a flame. 
Is longer like to be the same. 

Then smile on me, and I will prove 
Wonder is shorter-lived than love. 6o 



FRANCIS QUARLES. 53 

Francis Quarles, Emblems^ Di- 
vine and Aloral^ 1635. 

O WHITHER SHALL I FLY? 

O WHITHER shall I fly? what path untrod 
Shall I seek out to scape the flaming rod 
Of my offended, of my angry God ? 

Where shall I sojourn ? what kind sea will hide 

My head from thunder ? where shall I abide, 5 

Until his flames be quenched or laid aside ? 

What if my feet should take their hasty flight, 
And seek protection in the shades of night ? 
Alas, no shades can blind the God of Light. 

What if my soul should take the wings of day, 10 

And find some desert. If she spring away. 
The wings of vengeance clip as fast as they. 

What if some solid rock should entertain 

My frighted soul ? Can solid rocks restrain 

The stroke of Justice, and not cleave in twain ? 15 

Nor sea, nor shade, nor shield, nor rock, nor cave. 

Nor silent deserts, nor the sullen grave, 

Where flame-eyed Fury means to smite, can save. 

The seas will part, graves open, rocks will split. 

The shield will cleave, the frighted shadows flit ; 20 

Where Justice aims, her fiery darts must hit. 

No, no, if stern-browed Vengeance means to thunder, 
There is no place above, beneath, nor under. 
So close but will unlock or rive in sunder. 



54 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

'Tis vain to flee ; 'tis neither here nor there 25 

Can scape that hand until that hand forbear. 
Ah me ! where is he not that 's everywhere ? 

'T is vain to flee ; till gentle Mercy show 

Her better eye, the further off we go, 

The swing of Justice deals the mightier blow. 30 

Th' ingenuous child, corrected, doth not fly 
His angry mother's hand, but clings more nigh. 
And quenches with his tears her flaming eye. 

Shadows are faithless, and the rocks are false ; 

No trust in brass, no trust in marble walls ; 35 

Poor cots are even as safe as princes' halls. 

Great God, there is no safety here below ; 

Thou art my fortress, though thou seemst my foe : 

'T is thou that strik'st must guard the blow. 

Thou art my God ; by thee I fall or stand, 40 

Thy grace hath given me courage to withstand 
All tortures, but my conscience and thy hand. 

I know thy justice is thyself; I know, 

Just God, thy very self is mercy too ; 

If not to thee, where ? whither should I go ? 45 

Then work thy will ; if passion bid me flee, 
My reason shall obey ; my wings shall be 
Stretched out no further than from thee to thee. 



FRANCIS QUARLES. 55 

MY BELOVED IS MINE AND I AM HIS. 

Ev'n like two little bank-dividing brooks, 

That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams, 

And having ranged and searched a thousand nooks, 
Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames, 

Where in a greater current they conjoin : 5 

So I my best beloved's am, so he is mine. 

Ev'n so we met, and, after long pursuit, 
Ev'n so we joined, we both became entire; 

No need for either to renew a suit. 

For I was flax and he was flames of fire : lo 

Our firm united souls did more than twine, 

So I my best beloved's am, so he is mine. 

If all those glitt'ring monarchs that command 

The servile quarters of this earthly ball, 
Should tender in exchange their shares of land, 15 

I would not change my fortunes for them all : 
Their wealth is but a counter to my coin. 
The world's but theirs- but my beloved 's mine. 

Nay more, if the fair Thespian ladies all 

Should heap together their diviner treasure, 20 

That treasure should be deemed a price too small 

To buy a minute's lease of half my pleasure : 
'T is not the sacred wealth of all the mine 
Can buy my heart from his or his from being mine. 

Nor time, nor place, nor chance, nor death can bow 25 

My least desires unto the least remove ; 
He's firmly mine by oath, I his by vow; 

He 's mine by faith, and I am his by love ; 
He 's mine by water, I am his by wine : 
Thus I my best beloved's am, thus he is mine. 3° 



56 SEVEN'TEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

He is mine altar, I his holy place ; 

I am his guest, and he my living food ; 
I 'm his by penitence, he mine by grace ; 

I 'm his by purchase, he is mine by blood ; 
He's my supporting elm and I his vine : 35 

Thus I my best beloved's am • thus he is mine. 

He gives me wealth, I give him all my vows ; 

I give him songs, he gives me length of days ; 
With wreaths of grace he crowns my conquering brows, 

And I his temples with a crown of praise ; 4° 

Which he accepts as an everlasting sign 
That 1 my best beloved's am, that he is mine. 



George Sandys, Paraphrase upon 
the Psalms of David, 1636. 

DEO OPTIMO MAXIMO. 

O THOU who all things hast of nothing made. 

Whose hand the radiant firmament displayed, 

With such an undiscerned swiftness hurled 

About the steadfast centre of the world ; 

Against whose rapid course the restless sun 5 

And wandering flames in varied motions run, 

Which heat, life, light infuse ; time, night, and day 

Distinguish ; in our human bodies sway : 

That hung'st the solid earth in fleeting air, 

Veined with clear springs, which ambient seas repair. 10 

In clouds the mountains wrap their hoary heads ; 

Luxurious valleys clothed with flowery meads ; 

Her trees yield fruit and shade ; with liberal breasts 

All creatures she, their common mother, feasts. 



GEORGE SANDYS. 57 

Then man thy image mad'st ; in dignity, 15 

In knowledge, and in beauty like to thee ; 

Placed in a heaven on earth ; without his toil 

The ever-flourishing and fruitful soil 

Unpurchased food produced ; all creatures were 

His subjects, serving more for love than fear. 20 

He knew no lord but thee ; but when he fell 

From his obedience, all at once rebel, 

And in his ruin exercise their might ; 

Concurring elements against him fight ; 

Troops of unknown diseases, sorrow, age, 25 

And death assail him with successive rage. 

Hell let forth all her furies ; none so great 

As man to man : — ambition, pride, deceit. 

Wrong armed with power, lust, rapine, slaughter reigned, 

And flattered vice the name of virtue gained. 3° 

Then hills beneath the swelling waters stood 

And all the globe of earth was but one flood, 

Yet could not cleanse their guilt. The following race 

Worse than their fathers, and their sons more base. 

Their god-like beauty lost ; sin's wretched thrall 35 

No spark of their divine original 

Left unextinguished ; all enveloped 

With darkness, in their bold transgressions dead : 

When thou didst from the east a light display, 

Which rendered to the world a clearer day ; 40 

Whose precepts from hell's jaws our steps withdraw. 

And whose example was a living law ; 

Who purged us with his blood, the way prepared 

To heaven, and these long chained-up doors unbarred. 

How infinite thy mercy ! which exceeds 45 

The world thou mad'st, as well as our misdeeds ; 

Which greater reverence than thy justice wins, 

And still augments thy honor by our sins. 



58 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

O who hath tasted of thy clemency 

In greater measure or more oft than I ! 5° 

My grateful verse thy goodness shall display, 

thou who went'st along in all my way, 
To where the morning with perfumed wings 
From the high mountains of Panchaea springs, 

To that new found-out world, where sober Night 55 

Takes from the antipodes her silent flight ; 

To those dark seas where horrid Winter reigns, 

And binds the stubborn floods in icy chains ; 

To Libyan wastes, whose thirst no showers assuage, 

And where the swollen Nilus cools the lion's rage. 6o 

Thy wonders in the deep I have beheld ; 

Yet all by those on Judah's hill excelled. 

There, where the Virgin's son his doctrine taught. 

His miracles and our redemption wrought ; 

Where I, by thee inspired, his praises sung, 65 

And on his sepulchre my offering hung. 

Which way soe'er I turn my face or feet, 

1 see thy glory, and thy mercy meet ; 

Met on the Thracian shores, where in the strife 

Of frantic Simoans thou preservedst my life ; 7° 

So, when Arabian thieves belaid us round. 

And when, by all abandoned, thee I found. » 

That false Sidonian wolf, whose craft put on 

A sheep's soft fleece, and me, Bellerophon, 

To ruin by his cruel letter sent, 75 

Thou didst by thy protecting hand prevent. 

Thou savedst me from the bloody massacres 

Of faithless Indians ; from their treacherous wars ; 

From raging fevers, from the sultry breath 

Of tainted air, which cloyed the jaws of death ; 80 

Preserved from swallowing seas, when towering waves 

Mixed with the clouds and opened their deep graves ; 



ABRAHAM COWLEY. 59 

From barbarous pirates ransomed, by those taught, 

Successfully with Salian Moors we fought ; 

Then brought'st me home in safety, that this earth 85 

Might bury me, which fed me from my birth ; 

Blest with a healthful age, a quiet mind, 

Content with little, to this work designed. 

Which 1 at length have finished by thy aid, 

And now my vows have at thy altar paid. 9° 



Abraham Cowley, Sylva, 1636. 

A VOTE. 

This only grant me, that my means may lie 
Too low for envy, for contempt too high. 

Some honor I would have. 
Not from great deeds, but good alone : 
Th' unknown are better than ill-known ; 5 

Rumor can ope the grave. 
Acquaintance I would have, but when 't depends 
Not on the number, but the choice of friends. 

Books should, not business, entertain the light ; 

And sleep, as undisturbed as death, the night. 10 

My house a cottage, more 
Than palace, and should fitting be 
For all my use, no luxury. 

My garden painted o'er 
With Nature's hand, not Art's ; and pleasures yield 15 
Horace might envy in his Sabine field. 

Thus would I double my life's fading space, 
For he that runs it well, twice runs his race. 



60 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

And in this true delight, 
These unbought sports, this happy state, 20 

I would not fear nor wish my fate, 

But boldly say each night : 
To-morrow let my sun his beams display. 
Or in clouds hide them : I have lived to-day. 

ODE VI. 

UPON THE SHORTNESS OF MAN'S LIFE. 

Mark that swift arrow how it cuts the air. 

How it outruns thy hunting eye. 

Use all persuasions now and try 
If thou canst call it back or stay it there. 

That way it went, but thou shalt find 5 

No track of 't left behind. 

Fool, 't is thy life, and the fond archer, thou ! 

Of all the time thou 'st shot away, 

I '11 bid thee fetch but yesterday, 
And it shall be too hard a task to do. 10 

Besides repentance, what canst find 

That it hath left behind t 

Our life is carried with too strong a tide, 
A doubtful cloud our substance bears 
And is the horse of all our years ; 15 

Each day doth on a winged whirlwind ride. 
We and our glass run out, and must 
Both render up our dust. 

But his past life who without grief can see. 

Who never thinks his end too near 20 

But says to fame ' Thou art mine heir,' 



SIR JOHN SUCKLING. 61 

That man extends life's natural brevity : 
This is, this is the only way 
To outlive Nestor in a day. 



Sir John Suckling, Aglaura, 
1638 ; acted 1637. 

WHY SO PALE AND WAN, FOND LOVER? 

Why so pale and wan, fond lover ? 

Prithee why so pale? 
Will, when looking well can't move her, 

Looking ill prevail ? 

Prithee why so pale ? 5 

Why so dull and mute, young sinner ? 

Prithee why so mute ? 
Will, when speaking well can't win her, 

Saying nothing do 't ? 

Prithee why so mute ? 10 

Quit, quit, for shame ! this will not move, 

This cannot take her ; 
If of herself she will not love. 

Nothing can make her: 

The devil take her ! 15 



TRUE LOVE. 

No, no, fair heretic, it needs must be 
But an ill love in me. 
And worse for thee ; 
For were it in my power 
To love thee now this hour 



62 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

More than I did the last ; 

'T would then so fall, 

I might not love at all ; 
Love that can flow, and can admit increase, 
Admits as well an ebb, and may grow less. lo 

True love is still the same ; the torrid zones 

And those more frigid ones. 
It must not know : 

For love grown cold or hot 

Is lust or friendship, not 15 

The thing we have. 

For that 's a flame would die, 

Held down or up too high : 
Then think I love more than I can express, 
And would love more, could I but love thee less. 20 



Robert Herrick, Hesperides, 
1648 ; written after 1637. 

AN ODE FOR BEN JONSON. 

Ah, Ben ! 
Say how, or when 

Shall we thy guests 
Meet at those lyric feasts. 

Made at the Sun, 
The Dog, the Triple Tun ? 
Where we such clusters had. 
As made us nobly wild, not mad ; 
And yet each verse of thine 
Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine. 



THOMAS CAREW. 63 

My Ben ! 
Or come again : 

Or send to us, • 

Thy wit's great over-plus; 

But teach us yet 15 

Wisely to husband it ; 
Lest we that talent spend : 
And having once brought to an end 
That precious stock, the store 
Of such a wit the world should have no more. 20 



Thomas Carew, Poems, 1640 ; 
written between 1630 and 1638. 

THE SPRING. 

Now that winter 's gone, the earth hath lost 

Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost 

Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream 

Upon the silver lake and crystal stream. 

But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth, 5 

And makes it tender, gives a sacred birth 

To the dead swallow, wakes in hollow tree 

The drowsy cuckoo and the humble-bee. 

Now do a choir of chirping minstrels bring, 

In triumph to the world, the youthful spring ; 10 

The vallies, hills and woods, in rich array, 

Welcome the coming of the longed-for May. 

Now all things smile, only my love doth lower ; 

Nor hath the scalding noon-day sun the power 

To melt that marble ice which still doth hold 15 

Her heart congealed, and makes her pity cold. 



.64 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

The ox, which lately did for shelter fly 

Into the stall, doth now securely lie 

lo open fields ; and love no more is made 

By the fire side ; but, in the cooler shade, 20 

Amyntas now doth with his Chloris sleep 

Under a sycamore ; and all things keep 

Time with the season — only she doth carry 

June in her eyes, in her heart January. 

PERSUASIONS TO LOVE. 

Think not 'cause men flatt'ring say, 

Y' are fresh as April, sweet as May, 

Bright as is the morning star. 

That you are so ; or, though you are, 

Be not therefore proud, and deem 5 

All men unworthy your esteem : 

For, being so, you lose the pleasure 

Of being fair, since that rich treasure 

Of rare beauty and sweet feature, 

Was bestowed on you by nature 10 

To be enjoyed; and 'twere a sin 

There to be scarce, where she hath bin 

So prodigal of her best graces. 

Thus common beauties and mean faces 

Shall have more pastime, and enjoy 15 

The sport you lose by being coy. 

Did the thing for which I sue 

Only concern myself, not you — 

Were men so framed, as they alone 

Reaped all the pleasure, women none — 20 

Then had you reason to be scant ; 

But 't were madness not to grant 

That which affords (if you consent) 



THOMAS CAREW. 65 

To you the giver, more content 

Than me the beggar. O then be 25 

Kind to yourself if not to me; 

Starve not yourself, because you may 

Thereby make me pine away ; 

Nor let brittle beauty make 

You your wiser thoughts forsake. 3° 

For that lovely face will fail, 

Beauty 's sweet, but beauty 's frail ; 

'Tis sooner past, 'tis sooner done 

Than summer's rain or winter's sun ; 

Most fleeting when it is most dear — 35 

'T is gone while we but say 't is here. 

These curious locks, so aptly twined. 

Whose every hair my soul doth bind, 

Will change their abron hue and grow 

White and cold as winter's snow. 4° 

That eye, which now is Cupid's nest, 

Will prove his grave, and all the rest 

Will follow ; in the cheek, chin, nose, 

Nor lily shall be found, nor rose : 

And what will then become of all 45 

Those whom now you servants call ? 

Like swallows when your summer 's done. 

They '11 fly and seek some warmer sun. 

Then wisely choose one to your friend, 

Whose love may, when your beauties end, 50 

Remain still firm ; be provident 

And think, before the summer 's spent, 

Of following winter ; like the ant 

In plenty hoard for time is scant. 

Cull out amongst the multitude 55 

Of lovers, that seek to intrude 

Into your favor, one that may 



66 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Love for an age, not for a day ; 

One that will quench your youthful fires, 

And feed in age your hot desires. 60 

For when the storms of time have moved 

Waves on that cheek that was beloved, 

When a fair lady's face is pined. 

And yellow spread where red once shined, 

When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her, 65 

Love may return, but lover never : 

And old folks say there are no pains 

Like itch of love in aged veins. 

O love me then, and now begin it, 

Let us not lose the present minute ; 70 

For time and age will work that wrack 

Which time or age shall ne'er call back. 

The snake each year fresh skin resumes, 

And eagles change their aged plumes ; 

The faded rose each spring receives 75 

A fresh red tincture on her leaves : 

But if your beauty once decay. 

You never know a second May. 

O then be wise, and whilst your season 

Affords you days for sport, do reason ; 80 

Spend not in vain your life's short hour. 

But crop in time your beauties' flower. 

Which will away, and doth together 

Both bud and fade, both blow and wither. 

A CRUEL MISTRESS. 

We read of kings and gods that kindly took 
A pitcher filled with water from the brook ; 
But I have daily tendered without thanks 
Rivers of tears that overflow their banks. 



THOMAS CAREW. 67 

A slaughtered bull will appease angry Jove, 5 

A horse the sun, a lamb the god of love ; 

But she disdains the spotless sacrifice 

Of a pure heart that at her altar lies. 

Vesta is not displeased if her chaste urn 

Do with repaired fuel ever burn, lo 

But my saint frowns, though to her honored name 

I consecrate a never-dying flame. 

The Assyrian king did none i' the furnace throw 

But those that to his image did not bow; 

With bended knees I daily worship her, 15 

Yet she consumes her own idolater. 

Of such a goddess no times leave record, 

That burned the temple where she was adored. 



MEDIOCRITY IN LOVE REJECTED. 

Give me more love, or more disdain : 

The torrid, or the frozen zone 
Bring equal ease unto my pain ; 

The temperate affords me none : 
Either extreme, of love or hate. 
Is sweeter than a calm estate. 

Give me a storm ; if it be love, 
Like Danae in that golden shower 

I swim in pleasure ; if it prove 
Disdain, that torrent will devour 

My vulture-hopes ; and he 's possessed 

Of heaven that 's but from hell released. 

Then crown my joys, or cure my pain ; 
Give me more love, or more disdain. 



68 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



TO MY INCONSTANT MISTRESS. 

When thou, poor excommunicate 
From all the joys of love, shalt see 

The full reward and glorious fate 

Which my strong faith shall purchase me, 
Then curse thine own inconstancy. 

A fairer hand than thine shall cure 

That heart which thy false oaths did wound ; 

And to my soul, a soul more pure 

Than thine shall by love's hand be bound, 
And both with equal glory crowned. 

Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain 

To Love, as I did once to thee ; 
When all thy tears shall be as vain 

As mine were then, for thou shalt be 

Damned for thy false apostasy. 



PERSUASIONS TO JOY. 

If the quick spirits in your eye 
Now languish, and anon must die ; 
If every sweet and every grace 
Must fly from that forsaken face : 
Then, Celia, let us reap our joys 
Ere time such goodly fruit destroys. 

Or, if that golden fleece must grow 
For ever, free from aged snow ; 
If those bright suns must know no shade. 
Nor your fresh beauties ever fade ; 



THOMAS CAREW. 69 

Then fear not, Celia, to bestow 

What still being gathered still must grow : 

Thus, either Time his sickle brings 

In vain, or else in vain his wings. 



A DEPOSITION FROM LOVE. 

I WAS foretold, your rebel sex 

Nor love nor pity knew, 
And with what scorn you use to vex 

Poor hearts that humbly sue ; 
Yet I believed to crown our pain, 5 

Could we the fortress win. 
The happy lover sure should gain 

A paradise within. 
I thought love's plagues like dragons sate, 
Only to fright us at the gate. lo 

But I did enter, and enjoy 

What happy lovers prove. 
For I could kiss, and sport, and toy. 

And taste those sweets of love 
Which, had they but a lasting state, 15 

Or if in Celia's breast 
The force of love might not abate, 

Jove were too mean a guest. 
But now her breach of faith far more 
Afflicts than did her scorn before. 20 

Hard fate ! to have been once possest, 

As victor, of a heart 
Achieved with labor and unrest, 

And then forced to depart ! 
If the stout foe will not resign 25 



70 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

When I besiege a town, 
I lose but what was never mine ; 

But he that is cast down 
From enjoyed beauty, feels a woe 
Only deposed kings can know. 3° 



CELIA SINGING. 

You that think love can convey 

No other way 
But through the eyes, into the heart 

His fatal dart, 
Close up those casements, and but hear 5 

This siren sing ; 

And on the wing 
Of her sweet voice it shall appear 
That love can enter at the ear. 

Then unveil your eyes, behold 10 

The curious mould 
Where that voice dwells; and as we know 

When the cocks crow 

We freely may 

Gaze on the day ; 15 

So may you, when the music 's done 
Awake, and see the rising sun. 



TO T. H., 

A LADY RESEMBLING HIS MISTRESS. 

Fair copy of my Celia's face, 
Twin of my soul, thy perfect grace 
Claims in my love an equal place. 



THOMAS CARE IV. 71 

Disdain not a divided heart, 

Though all be hers, you shall have part ; 5 

Love is not tied to rules of art. 

For as my soul first to her flew. 
It stayed with me ; so now 't is true 
It dwells with her, though fled to you. 

Then entertain this wand'ring guest, lo 

And if not love, allow it rest ; 
It left not, but mistook the nest. 

Nor think my love, or your fair eyes 
Cheaper 'cause from the sympathies 
You hold with her, these flames arise. 15 

To lead, or brass, or some such bad 
Metal, a prince's stamp may add 
That value which it never had. 

But to pure refined ore. 

The stamp of kings imparts no more 20 

Worth than the metal held before ; 

Only the image gives the rate 

To subjects, in a foreign state 

'T is prized as much for its own weight. 

So though all other hearts resign 25 

To your pure worth, yet you have mine 
Only because you are her coin. 



72 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

IN THE PERSON OF A LADY TO HER 
INCONSTANT SERVANT. 

When on the altar of my hand, 

(Bedewed with many a kiss and tear), 

Thy now revolted heart did stand 
An humble martyr, thou didst swear 
Thus (and the god of love did hear): 

' By those bright glances of thine eye, 

Unless thou pity me, I die.' 

When first those perjured lips of thine, 
Bepaled with blasting sighs, did seal 

Their violated faith on mine, 

From the soft bosom that did heal 
Thee, thou my melting heart didst steal; 

My soul, enflamed with thy false breath, 

Poisoned with kisses, sucked in death. 

Yet I nor hand nor lip will move, 
Revenge or mercy to procure 

From the offended god of love ; 
My curse is fatal, and my pure 
Love shall beyond thy scorn endure. 

If I implore the gods, they '11 find 

Thee too ungrateful, me too kind. 

RED AND WHITE ROSES. 

Read in these roses the sad story 

Of my hard fate and your own glory : 

In the white you may discover 

The paleness of a fainting lover ; 

In the red, the flames still feeding 

On my heart with fresh wounds bleeding. 



THOMAS CAREW. 73 

The white will tell you how I languish, 

And the red express my anguish: 

The white my innocence displaying, 

The red my martyrdom betraying. lo 

The frowns that on your brow resided, 

Have those roses thus divided ; 

O ! let your smiles but clear the weather, 

And then they both shall grow together. 

EPITAPH ON LADY MARY WENTWORTH. 

And here the precious dust is laid. 
Whose purely-tempered clay was made 
So fine, that it the guest betrayed. 

Else the soul grew so fast within. 

It broke the outward shell of sin, 5 

And so was hatched a cherubin. 

In height, it soared to God above, 
In depth, it did to knowledge move. 
And spread in breadth to general love. 

Before, a pious duty shined lo 

To parents, courtesy behind, 
On either side an equal mind. 

Good to the poor, to kindred dear. 

To servants kind, to friendship clear, 

To nothing but herself severe. '5 

So, though a virgin, yet a bride 
To every grace, she justified 
A chaste polygamy, and died. 



74 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Learn from hence, reader, what small trust 
We owe this world, where virtue must, 
Frail as our flesh, crumble to dust. 



A SONG. 

Ask me no more where Jove bestows, 
When June is past, the fading rose ; 
For in your beauty's orient deep, 
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. 

Ask me no more whither do stray 5 

The golden atoms of the day; 

For, in pure love, heaven did prepare 

Those powders to enrich your hair. 

Ask me no more whither doth haste 

The nightingale, when May is past ; lo 

For in your sweet dividing throat 

She winters, and keeps warm her note. 

Ask me no more where those stars light. 

That downwards fall in dead of night; 

For in your eyes they sit, and there 15 

Fixed become, as in their sphere. 

Ask me no more if east or west. 

The phoenix builds her spicy nest; 

For unto you at last she flies, 

And in your fragrant bosom dies. 20 



ROBERT HER RICK. 75 

MURDERING BEAUTY. 

I 'll gaze no more on that bewitched face, 

Since ruin harbors there in every place, 

For my enchanted soul alike she drowns. 

With calms and tempests of her smiles and frowns. 

I '11 love no more those cruel eyes of hers, 5 

Which, pleased or angered, still are murderers ; 

For if she dart like lightning through the air 

Her beams of wrath, she kills me with despair; 

If she behold me with a pleasing eye, 

I surfeit with excess of joy, and die. lo 



Robert Herrick, Hesperides, 
1648; written between 1629 and 
1640. 

DELIGHT IN DISORDER. 

A SWEET disorder in the dress 

Kindles in clothes a wantonness. 

A lawn about the shoulders thrown 

Into a fine distraction; 

An erring lace, which here and there 5 

Enthralls the crimson stomacher; 

A cuff neglectful, and thereby 

Ribbands to flow confusedly; 

A winning wave (deserving note) 

In the tempestuous petticoat ; 10 

A careless shoe-string, in whose tie 

I see a wild civility; 

Do more bewitch me, than when art 

Is too precise in every part. 



76 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

TO LAURELS. 

A FUNERAL Stone 
Or verse, I covet none ; 
But only crave 
Of you that I may have 
A sacred laurel springing from my grave ; 5 

Which being seen 
Blest with perpetual green, 

May grow to be 
Not so much called a tree 
As the eternal monument of me. lo 



TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME. 

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. 

Old time is still a-flying ; 
And this same flower that smiles to-day, 

To-morrow will be dying. 

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, 5 

The higher he 's a-getting. 
The sooner will his race be run. 

And nearer he 's to setting. 

That age is best which is the first. 

When youth and blood are warmer ; lo 

But being spent, the worse, and worst 

Times still succeed the former. 

Then be not coy, but use your time. 

And while ye may, go marry ; 
For having lost but once your prime, 15 

You may forever tarry. 



ROBERT HER RICK. 77 



TO THE WESTERN WIND. 

Sweet western wind, whose luck it is, 

Made rival with the air, 
To give Perenna's lip a kiss. 

And fan her wanton hair, 

Bring me but one, I '11 promise thee, 
Instead of common showers. 

Thy wings shall be embalmed by me, 
And all beset with flowers. 



TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW. 

Why do ye weep, sweet babes ? Can tears 
Speak grief in you. 
Who were but born 
Just as the modest morn 
Teemed her refreshing dew ? 5 

Alas, you have not known that shower 
That mars a flower, 
Nor felt the unkind 
Breath of a blasting wind, 
Nor are ye worn with years, lo 

Or warped, as we. 
Who think it strange to see 
Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young, 
To speak by tears before ye have a tongue. 

Speak, whimpering younglings, and make known 15 
The reason why 
Ye droop and weep. 
Is it for want of sleep, 
Or childish lullaby? 



78 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Or that ye have not seen as yet 20 

The violet ? 
Or brought a kiss 
From that sweetheart to this ? 
No, no, this sorrow shown 

By your tears shed 25 

Would have this lecture read : 
That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, 
Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth. 



TO ANTHEA, 

WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANYTHING. 

Bid me to live, and I will live 

Thy protestant to be ; 
Or bid me love, and I will give 

A loving heart to thee. 

A heart as soft, a heart as kind, 5 

A heart as sound and free. 
As in the whole world thou canst find, 

That heart I '11 give to thee. 

Bid that heart stay and it will stay. 

To honor thy decree; 10 

Or bid it languish quite away, 

And 't shall do so for thee. 

Bid me to weep, and I will weep. 

While I have eyes to see; 
And having none, yet I will keep 15 

A heart to weep for thee. 

Bid me despair, and I '11 despair, 
Under that cypress tree ; 



ROBERT HER RICK. 79 

Or bid me die, and I will dare 

E'en death, to die for thee. 20 

Thou art my life, my love, my heart, 

The very eyes of me, 
And hast command of every part 

To live and die for thee. 



TO MEADOWS. 

Ye have been fresh and green, 

Ye have been filled with flowers ; 
And ye the walks have been 

Where maids have spent their hours. 

You have beheld how they 5 

With wicker arks did come. 
To kiss and bear away 

The richer cowslips home. 

Y 'ave heard them sweetly sing, 

And seen them in a round ; 10 

Each virgin, like a spring, 

With honeysuckles crowned. 

But now, we see none here, 

Whose silv'ry feet did tread. 
And with dishevelled hair 15 

Adorned this smoother mead. 

Like unthrifts, having spent 

Your stock, and needy grown, 
Y' are left here to lament 

Your poor estates, alone. 20 



80 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



TO DAFFODILS. 

Fair daffodils, we weep to see 
You haste away so soon ; 
As yet the early rising sun 

Has not attained his noon. 

Stay, stay. 
Until the hasting day 

Has run 
But to the even-song ; 
And, having prayed together, we 
Will go with you along. 

We have short time to stay, as you 

We have as short a spring ; 
As quick a growth to meet decay 
As you, or any thing. 

We die. 
As your hours do, and dry 

Away, 
Like to the summer's rain ; 
Or as the pearls of morning's dew. 
Ne'er to be found again. 



TO BLOSSOMS. 

Fair pledges of a fruitful tree. 
Why do ye fall so fast ? 
Your date is not so past 

But you may stay yet here a while. 
To blush and gently smile. 
And go at last. 



ROBERT HER RICK. 81 

What, were ye born to be 

An hour or half's delight, 

And so to bid good-night ? 
'T was pity Nature brought ye forth, lo 

Merely to show your worth. 
And lose you quite. 

But you are lovely leaves, where we 
May read how soon things have 
Their end, though ne'er so brave ; 15 

And after they have shown their pride 
Like you awhile, they glide 
Into the grave. 

HIS GRANGE, OR PRIVATE WEALTH. 

Though clock, 
To tell how night draws hence, I 've none, 

A cock 
I have to sing how day draws on. 

I have 5 

A maid, my Prue, by good luck sent, 

To save 
That little Fates me gave or lent. 

A hen 
I keep, which, creaking day by day, 10 

Tells when 
She goes her long white Qgg to lay. 

A goose 
I have, which, with a jealous ear. 

Lets loose iS 

Her tongue to tell what danger 's near. 

A lamb 
I keep, tame, with my morsels fed, 



82 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Whose dam 
An orphan left him, lately dead. 20 

A cat 
I keep, that plays about my house. 

Grown fat 
With eating many a miching mouse ; 

To these 25 

A Tracy I do keep, whereby 

I please 
The more my rural privacy : 

Which are 
But toys, to give my heart some ease. 3° 

Where care 
None is, slight things do lightly please, 

Robert Herrick, Noble N'um- 
bers, 1647 ; written between 
1629 and 1640. 

TO DEATH. 

Thou bidd'st me come away, 

And I '11 no longer stay 

Than for to shed some tears 

For faults of former years, 

And to repent some crimes 5 

Done in the present times ; 

And next, to take a bit 

Of bread, and wine with it ; 

To don my robes of love, 

Fit for the place above ; 10 

To gird my loins about 

With charity throughout, 

And so to travel hence 

With feet of innocence : 



ROBERT HER RICK. 83 

These done, 1 '11 only cry, 15 

" God, mercy ! " and so die. 



A THANKSGIVING TO GOD FOR HIS HOUSE. 

Lord, thou hast given me a cell 

Wherein to dwell, 
A little house, whose humble roof 

Is weatherproof, 
Under the spars of which I lie 5 

Both soft and dry ; 
Where thou, my chamber for to ward. 

Hast set a guard 
Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep 

Me while I sleep. 10 

Low is my porch, as is my fate, 

Both void of state ; 
And yet the threshold of my door 

Is worn by th' poor, 
Who thither come and freely get 15 

Good words or meat. 
Like as my parlor so my hall 

And kitchen 's small ; 
A little buttery, and therein 

A little bin, 20 

Which keeps my little loaf of bread 

Unchipped, unfled ; 
Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar 

Make me a fire, 
Close by whose living coal I sit, 25 

And glow like it. 
Lord, I confess too, when I dine, 

The pulse is thine, 



84 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

And all those other bits that be 

There placed by thee ; 3° 

The worts, the purslane, and the mess 

Of water-cress. 
Which of thy kindness thou hast sent ; 

And my content 
Makes those, and my beloved beet, 35 

To be more sweet. 
'T is thou that crown'st my glittering hearth 

With guiltless mirth. 
And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink, 

Spiced to the brink. 4o 

Lord, 't is thy plenty-dropping hand 

That soils my land, 
And giv'st me, for my bushel sown. 

Twice ten for one ; 
Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay 45 

Her egg each day ; 
Besides my healthful ewes to bear 

Me twins each year ; 
The while the conduits of my kine 

Run cream, for wine. 5° 

All these, and better thou dost send 

Me, to this end. 
That I should render, for my part, 

A thankful heart. 
Which, fired with incense, I resign, 55 

As wholly thine ; 
But the acceptance, — that must be, 

My Christ, by thee. 



WILLIAM HABINGTON. 85 



William Habington, Castara, 
Part III, 1639-40. 

NOX NOCTI INDICAT SCIENTIAM. 

When I survey the bright 
Celestial sphere, 
So rich with jewels hung, that night 
Doth like an Ethiop bride appear. 

My soul her wings doth spread. 
And heavenward flies, 
The Almighty's mysteries to read 
In the large volume of the skies. 

For the bright firmament 
Shoots forth no flame 
So silent, but is eloquent 
In speaking the Creator's name. 

No unregarded star 
Contracts its light 
Into so small a character, 
Removed far from our human sight, 

But, if we steadfast look. 
We shall discern 
In it, as in some holy book, 
How man may heavenly knowledge learn. 

It tells the conqueror. 

That far-stretched power 
Which his proud dangers traffic for, 
Is but the triumph of an hour. 



86 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

That from the farthest north 25 

Some nation may, 
Yet undiscovered, issue forth. 
And o'er his new-got conquest sway. 

Some nation yet shut in 

With hills of ice 30 

May be let out to scourge his sin, 
Till they shall equal him in vice. 

And then they likewise shall 
Their ruin have ; 
For as yourselves your empires fall, 35 

And every kingdom hath a grave. 

Thus those celestial fires. 
Though seeming mute 
The fallacy of our desires 
And all the pride of life confute. 40 

For they have watched since first 
The world had birth : 
And found sin in itself accursed, 
And nothing permanent on earth. 

William Habington, Cleodora, 
the Queen of Arragon, 1640. 

HIS MISTRESS FLOUTED. 

Fine young folly, though you were 
That fair beauty I did swear, 

Yet you ne'er could reach my heart; 
For we courtiers learn at school 
Only with your sex to fool ; 5 

You 're not worth the serious part. 



JAMES SHIRLEY. 87 

When I sigh and kiss your hand, 
Cross my arms and wondering stand, 

Holding parley with your eye, 
Then dilate on my desires, lo 

Swear the sun ne'er shot such fires — 

All is but a handsome lie. 

When I eye your curl or lace, 
Gentle soul, you think your face 

Straight some murder doth commit ; 15 

And your virtue both begin 
To grow scrupulous of my sin. 

When I talk to show my wit. 

Therefore, madam, wear no cloud. 

Nor to check my love grow proud ; 20 

In sooth I much do doubt 
'T is the powder in your hair, 
Not your breath, perfumes the air. 

And your clothes that set you out. 

Yet though truth has this confessed, 25 

And I vow I love in jest, 

When I next begin to court. 
And protest an amorous flame, 
You will swear I in earnest am. 

Bedlam ! this is pretty sport. 3° 



James Shirley, The Imposture, 
1652 ; acted 1640. 

PEACE RESTORED. 

You virgins, that did late despair 

To keep your wealth from cruel men, 



88 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Tie up in silk your careless hair : 
Soft peace is come again. 

Now lovers' eyes may gently shoot 

A flame that will not kill ; 
The drum was angry, but the lute 

Shall whisper what you will. 

Sing lo, lo ! for his sake, 

That hath restored your drooping heads ; 
With choice of sweetest flowers make 

A garden where he treads ; 

Whilst we whole groves of laurel bring, 
A petty triumph to his brow, 

Who is the master of our spring 
And all the bloom we owe. 



SONG OF THE NUNS. 

O FLY, my soul ! what hangs upon 

Thy drooping wings. 

And weighs them down 
With love of gaudy mortal things ? 

The sun is now i' the east ; each shade, 5 

As he doth rise. 

Is shorter made. 
That earth may lessen to our eyes. 

O, be not careless then and play 

Until the star of peace lo 

Hide all his beams in dark recess. 
Poor pilgrims needs must lose their way 
When all the shadows do increase. 



JAMES SHIRLEY. 89 



James Shirley, The Contention 
of Ajax and Ulysses, 1659 ; 
written about 1640. 

NO ARMOR AGAINST FATE. 

The glories of our blood and state 

Are shadows, not substantial things; 
There is no armor against fate ; 
Death lays his icy hand on kings : 

Sceptre and crown 5 

Must tumble down, 
And in the dust be equal made 
With the poor crooked scythe and spade. 

Some men with swords may reap the field, 

And plant fresh laurels where they kill; 10 

But their strong nerves at last must yield. 
They tame but one another still : 
Early or late 
They stoop to fate 
And must give up their murmuring breath 15 

When they, pale captives, creep to death. 

The garlands wither on your brow. 

Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; 
Upon Death's purple altar now 

See where the victor-victim bleeds: 20 

Your heads must come 
To the cold tomb ; 
Only the actions of the just 
Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust. 



90 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Robert Herrick, Hesperides, 
1648; written before 1641. 

HIS WINDING-SHEET. 

Come thou, who art the wine and wit 

Of all I 've writ ; 
The grace, the glory, and the best 

Piece of the rest ; 
Thou art of what I did intend 5 

The all and end ; 
And what was made, was made to meet 

Thee, thee my sheet : 
Come then, and be to my chaste side 

Both bed and bride. 10 

We two, as relics left, will have 

One rest, one grave ; 
And, hugging close, we will not fear 

Lust entering here, 
Where all desires are dead or cold, 15 

As is the mould ; 
And all affet^tions are forgot, 

Or trouble not. 
Here, here the slaves and pris'ners be 

From shackles free, 20 

And weeping widows, long oppressed. 

Do here find rest. 
The wrongbd client ends his laws 

Here, and his cause ; 
Here those long suits of Chancery lie 25 

Quiet, or die, 
And all Star Chamber bills do cease. 

Or hold their peace. 
Here needs no Court for our Request, 

Where all are best, 3° 



GEORGE WITHER. 91 

All wise, all equal, and all just 

Alike i' th' dust. 
Nor need we here to fear the frown 

Of court or crown : 
Where Fortune bears no sway o'er things, 35 

There all are kings. 
In this securer place we '11 keep. 

As lulled asleep ; 
Or for a httle time we '11 He, 

As robes laid by, 4o 

To be another day re-worn. 

Turned, but not torn ; 
Or like old testaments engrossed. 

Locked up, not lost ; 
And for a while lie here concealed, 45 

To be revealed 
Next, at that great Platonic Year, 

And then meet here. 



George Wither, Haleluiah, or 
Britain's Second Remembrancer, 
1641. 

A ROCKING HYMN. 

Sweet baby sleep ! what ails my dear. 

What ails my darling thus to cry ? 
Be still, my child, and lend thine ear 
To hear me sing thy lullaby: 

My pretty lamb, forbear to weep. 
Be still my dear, sweet baby sleep. 

Thou blessed soul, what canst thou fear ? 
What thing to thee can mischief do ? 



92 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Thy God is now thy father dear, 

His holy spouse, thy mother too : lo 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep, 
Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 

Though thy conception was in sin, 
A sacred bathing thou hast had ; 
And, though thy birth unclean hath been, 15 

A blameless babe thou now art made : 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep. 
Be still my dear, sweet baby sleep. 

Whilst thus thy lullaby I sing. 

For thee great blessings ripening be ; 20 

Thine eldest brother is a king. 

And hath a kingdom bought for thee: 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep. 
Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 

Sweet baby sleep and nothing fear, 25 

For whosoever thee offends, 
By thy protector threat'ned are. 

And God and angels are thy friends : 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep. 
Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 30 

When God with us was dwelling here. 

In little babes he took delight ; 

Such innocents as thou, my dear, 

Are ever precious in his sight : 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep, 35 

Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 

A little infant once was he, 

And, strength in weakness, then was laid 
Upon his virgin-mother's knee, 



GEORGE WITHER. 93 

That power to thee might be conveyed : 4° 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep, 
Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 

In this, thy frailty and thy need, 

He friends and helpers doth prepare. 
Which thee shall cherish, clothe and feed, 45 

For of thy weal they tender are : 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep. 
Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 

The king of kings, when he was born. 

Had not so much for outward ease ; 50 

By him such dressings were not worn, 
Nor such like swaddling-clothes as these : 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep. 
Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 

Within a manger lodged thy lord 55 

Where oxen lay and asses fed ; 
Warm rooms we do to thee afford. 
An easy cradle or a bed : 

Sweet baby, then forbear to w^eep, 

Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 60 

The wants that he did then sustain 

Have purchased wealth, my babe, for thee ; 
And by his torments and his pain 
Thy rest and ease secured be : 

My baby, then forbear to weep, 65 

Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 

.Thou hast (yet more) to perfect this 

A promise and an earnest got 
Of gaining everlasting bliss, 



94 » SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Though thou, my babe, perceiv'st it not : 70 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep, 
Be still my babe, sweet baby sleep. 



William Cartwright, Comedies, 
Tragi-Comedies and Other Foejns, 
1651 ; written before 1641. 

TO CUPID. 

Thou who didst never see the light, 

Nor knowst the pleasure of the sight, 

But always blinded, canst not say 

Now it is night, or now 't is day. 
So captivate her sense, so blind her eye. 
That still she love me, yet she ne'er know why. 

Thou who dost wound us with such art. 

We see no blood drop from the heart. 

And, subtly cruel, leav'st no sign 

To tell the blow or hand was thine, 
O gently, gently wound my fair, that she 
May thence believe the wound did come from me. 

VENUS. 

Venus, redress a wrong that 's done 
By that young sprightful boy, thy son, 
He wounds, and then laughs at the sore : 
Hatred itself can do no more. 
If I pursue, he 's small and light. 
Both seen at once, and out of sight ; 
If I do fly, he 's wing'd, and then 
At the third step I 'm caught again : 



WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT. 95 

Lest one day thou thyself mayst suffer so, 

Or clip the wanton's wings or break his bow. lo 



TO CHLOE, 

WHO WISHED HERSELF YOUNG ENOUGH FOR ME. 

O Chloe, why wish you that your years 
Would backwards run till they meet mine, 

That perfect likeness, which endears 
Things unto things, might us combine t 

Our ages so in date agree, 5 

That twins do differ more than we. 

There are two births, the one when light 
First strikes the new awak'ned sense ; 

The other when two souls unite ; 

And we must count our life from thence : lo 

When you loved me and I loved you. 

Then both of us were born anew. 

Love then to us new souls did give. 

And in those souls did plant new powers; 

Since when another life we live, 15 

The breath we breathe is his, not ours ; 

Love makes those young whom age doth chill. 

And whom he finds young, keeps young still. 

Love, like that angel that shall call 

Our bodies from the silent grave, 20 

Unto one age doth raise us all. 

None too much, none too little have ; 
Nay, that the difference may be none. 
He makes two not alike, but one. 



96 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

And now, since you and I are such, 25 

Tell me what 's yours, and what is mine ? 

Our eyes, our ears, our taste, smell, touch. 
Do — like our souls — in one combine ; 

So by this, I as well may be 

Too old for you, as you for me. 3° 



A VALEDICTION. 

Bid me not go where neither suns nor showers 

Do make or cherish flowers ; 
Where discontented things in sadness lie 

And Nature grieves as I ; 
When I am parted from those eyes, 5 

From which my better day doth rise, 

Though some propitious power 

Should plant me in a bower. 
Where amongst happy lovers I might see 

How showers and sunbeams bring 10 

One everlasting spring. 
Nor would those fall nor these shine forth to me : 

Nature to him is lost, 

Who loseth her he honors most. 

Then fairest to my parting view display 15 

Your graces all in one full day. 
Whose blessed shapes I '11 snatch and keep, till when 

I do return and view again : 
So by this art fancy shall fortune cross. 
And lovers live by thinking on their loss. 20 



WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT. 97 

LOVE BUT ONE. 

See these two little brooks that slowly creep 

In snaky windings through the plains, 
I knew them once one river, swift and deep, 

Blessing and blest by poets' strains. 

Then, touched with awe, we thought some god did pour 5 

Those floods from out his sacred jar, 
Transforming every weed into a flower, 

And every flower into a star. 

But since it broke itself, and double glides, 

The naked banks no dress have worn, 10 

And yon dry barren mountain now divides 

These valleys which lost glories mourn. 

O Chloris, think how this presents thy love, 

Which, when it ran but in one stream. 
We happy shepherds thence did thrive and prove, 15 

And thou wast mine and all men's theme. 

But since 't hath been imparted to one more, 

And in two streams doth weakly creep. 
Our common Muse is thence grown low and poor. 

And mine as lean as these my sheep. 20 

But think withal what honor thou hast lost. 

Which we did to thy full stream pay. 
Whiles now that swain that swears he loves thee most. 

Slakes but his thirst, and goes away. 

O in what narrow ways our minds must move ! 25 

We may not hate, nor yet diffuse our love. 



98 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



From Wifs Recreations, ed. 1641, 
author unknown. 

THE SAD LOVER. 

Why should I wrong my judgment so, 
As for to love where I do know 

There is no hold for to be taken ? 

For what her wish thirsts after most, 
If once of it her heart can boast, 5 

Straight by her folly 't is forsaken. 

Thus, whilst I still pursue in vain, 
Methinks I turn a child again. 

And of my shadow am a-chasing. 

For all her favors are to me 10 

Like apparitions which I see. 

But never can come near th' embracing. 

Oft had I wished that there had been 
Some almanac whereby to have seen. 

When love with her had been in season. 15 

But I perceive there is no art 
Can find the epact of the heart. 

That loves by chance, and not by reason. 

Yet will I not for this despair. 

For time her humor may prepare 20 

To grace him who is now neglected. 

And what unto my constancy 
She now denies, one day may be 

From her inconstancy expected. 



RICHARD CRASH AW. 99 



Richard Crash aw, Delights of 
the Muses, 1646; written before 
1641. 

WISHES TO HIS SUPPOSED MISTRESS. 

Whoe'er she be, 

That not impossible she, 

That shall command my heart and me ; 

Where'er she lie, 

Locked up from mortal eye. 

In shady leaves of destiny: 

Till that ripe birth 

Of studied fate stand forth 

And teach her fair steps tread our earth ; 

Till that divine 

Idea take a shrine 

Of crystal flesh, through which to shine : 

Meet you her, my wishes. 

Bespeak her to my blisses, 

And be ye called, my absent kisses. 

I wish her beauty. 

That owes not all its duty 

To gaudy tire, or glist'ring shoe-tie. 

Something more than 
Taffeta or tissue can, 
Or rampant feather, or rich fan. 

More than the spoil 

Of shop, or silkworm's toil. 

Or a bought blush, or a set smile. 



100 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

A face that 's best 25 

By its own beauty drest, 

And can alone commend the rest. 

A face made up 

Out of no other shop 

Than what Nature's white hand sets ope. 3° 

A cheek where youth 

And blood, with pen of truth, 

Write what the reader sweetly ru'th. 

A cheek where grows 

More than a morning rose : 35 

Which to no box his being owes. 

Lips where all day 

A lover's kiss may play, 

Yet carry nothing thence away. 

Looks that oppress 40 

Their richest tires, but dress 
Themselves in simple nakedness. 

Eyes that displace 

The neighbor diamond, and out-face 

That sunshine by their own sweet grace. 45 

Tresses that wear 

Jewels, but to declare 

How much themselves more precious are. 

Whose native ray 

Can tame the wanton day 5° 

Of gems, that in their bright shades play. 



RICHARD CRASHAW. 101 

Each ruby there, 

Or pearl that dares appear, 

Be its own blush, be its own tear. 

A well-tamed heart, 55 

For whose more noble smart 
Love may be long choosing a dart. 

Eyes that bestow 

Full quivers on Love's bow ; 

Yet pay less arrows than they owe. 60 

Smiles that can warm 

The blood, yet teach a charm, 

That chastity shall take no harm. 

Blushes that bin 

The burnish of no sin, 65 

Nor flames of aught too hot within. 

Joys that confess 

Virtue their mistress, 

And have no other head to dress. 

Fears, fond and flight 70 

As the coy bride's, when night 
First does the longing lover right. 

Tears, quickly fled, 

And vain, as those are shed 

For a dying maidenhead. 75 

Days that need borrow 

No part of their good morrow. 

From a fore-spent night of sorrow. 



102 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Days that in spite 

Of darkness, by the light 80 

Of a clear mind are day all night. 

Nights, sweet as they, 

Made short by lovers' play, 

Yet long by th' absence of the day. 

Life that dares send 85 

A challenge to his end. 

And when it comes, say, 'Welcome, friend.' 

Sydneian showers 

Of sweet discourse, whose powers 

Can crown old Winter's head with flowers. 9° 

Soft silken hours, 

Open suns, shady bowers, 

'Bove all, nothing within that lowers. 

Whate'er delight 

Can make Day's forehead bright, 95 

Or give down to the wings of Night. 

In her whole frame 

Have Nature all the name. 

Art and ornament the shame. 

Her flattery, 100 

Picture and poesy: 

Her counsel her own virtue be. 

I wish her store 

Of worth may leave her poor 

Of wishes ; and I wish — no more. 105 



RICHARD BROME. 103 

Now, if Time knows 

That her, whose radiant brows 

Weave them a garland of my vows ; 

Her whose just bays 

My future hopes can raise, "o 

A trophy to her present praise ; 

Her that dares be 

What these lines wish to see : 

I seek no further ; it is she. 

'Tis she, and here i^S 

Lo ! I unclothe and clear 
My wishes' cloudy character. 

May she enjoy it. 

Whose merit dare apply it. 

But modesty dares still deny it. 120 

Such worth as this is, 
Shall fix my flying wishes, 
And determine them to kisses. 

Let her full glory. 

My fancies, fly before ye: 125 

Be ye my fictions, but her story. 



Richard Brome, The Jovial Crew, 
1652; acted 1 641. 

THE MERRY BEGGARS. 



Come, come ; away ! the spring, 
By every bird that can but sing, 
Or chirp a note, doth now invite 
Us forth to taste of his delight, 



104 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

In field, in grove, on hill, in dale ; 5 

But above all the nightingale, 

Who in her sweetness strives t' outdo 

The loudness of the hoarse cuckoo. 

' Cuckoo,' cries he ; 'jug, jug, jug,' sings she ; 

From bush to bush, from tree to tree : lo 

Why in one place then tarry we ? 

Come away ! why do we stay ? 

We have no debt or rent to pay ; 

No bargains or accounts to make, 

Nor land or lease to let or take : 15 

Or if we had, should that remore us 

When all the world 's our own before us, 

And where we pass and make resort, 

It is our kingdom and our court. 

'Cuckoo,' cries he; 'jug, jug, jug,' sings she 20 

From bush to bush, from tree to tree : 
Why in one place then tarry we ? 



Broad-sheet, 1641 ; author unknown. 

LORD STRAFFORD'S MEDITATIONS IN . 
THE TOWER. 

Go empty joys. 
With all your noise. 
And leave me here alone. 
In sad, sweet silence to bemoan 

The fickle worldly height 
Whose danger none can see aright, 
Whilst your false splendors dim the sight. 



ANONYMOUS. 105 

Go, and ensnare 
With your trim ware 
Some other worldly wight, lo 

And cheat him with your flattering light ; 

Rain on his head a shower 
Of honor, greatness, wealth, and power ; 
Then snatch it from him in an hour. 

Fill his big mind 15 

With gallant wind 
Of insolent applause ; 
Let him not fear the curbing laws, 
Nor king, nor people's frown ; 
But dream of something like a crown, 20 

Then, climbing upwards, tumble down. 

Let him appear 
In his bright sphere 
Like Cynthia in her pride. 
With starlike troops on every side ; 25 

For number and clear light 
Such as may soon o'erwhelm quite, 
And blind them both in one dead night. 

Welcome, sad night, 

Grief's sole delight, 3° 

Thy mourning best agrees 
With honor's funeral obsequies. 

In Thetis' lap he lies. 
Mantled with soft securities, 
Whose too much sunlight dims his eyes. 35 

Was he too bold 
Who needs would hold 



106 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

With curbing reins the day, 
And make Sol's fiery steeds obey? 

Therefore as rash was I, 40 

Who with Ambition's wings did fly 
In Charles's wain too loftily. 

I fall ! I fall ! 
Whom shall I call ? 
Alas, shall I be heard 45 

Who now am neither loved nor feared ? 
You, who have vowed the ground 
To kiss where my blest steps were found, 
Come, catch me at my last rebound. 

How each admires 5° 

Heaven's twinkling fires 
Whilst from their glorious seat 
Their influence gives light and heat ; 

But O how few there are. 
Though danger from the act be far, 55 

Will run to catch a falling star ! 

O were 't our fate 
To imitate 
Those lights whose pallidness 
Argues no guiltiness! 60 

Their course is one way bent ; 
Which is the cause there 's no dissent 
In Heaven's High Court of Parliament. 



S/J^ JOHN SUCKLING. 107 

Sir John Suckling, Fragme?ita 
Atc7'ea, 1646; written between 
1632 and 1641. 

SONNET. 

Dost see how unregarded now 
That piece of beauty passes ? 
There was a time when I did vow 
To that alone ; 
But mark the fate of faces ; 5 

The red and white works now no more on me, 
Than if it could not charm, or I not see. 

And yet the face continues good, 

And I have still desires, 
And still the self-same flesh and blood, 10 

As apt to melt. 
And suffer from those fires ; 
O, some kind power unriddle where it lies : 
Whether my heart be faulty or her eyes } 

She every day her man doth kill, 15 

And I as often die ; 
Neither her power then or my will ^ 
Can questioned be. 
What is the mystery ? 
Sure beauty's empire, like to greater states, 20 

Have certain periods set, and hidden fates. 

SONG. 

I PRITHEE spare me, gentle boy, 
Press me no more for that slight toy. 
That foolish trifle of an heart ; 
I swear it will not do its part, 
Though thou dost thine, employ'st thy power and art. 5 



108 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

For through long custom it has known 
The little secrets, and is grown 
Sullen and wise, will have its will, 
And, like old hawks, pursues that still 
That makes least sport, flies only where 't can kill. lo 

Some youth that has not made his story, 
Will think, perchance, the pain 's the glory ; 
And mannerly sit out love's feast ; 
I shall be carving of the best. 
Rudely call for the last course 'fore the rest. 15 

And, O, when once that course is past. 
How short a time the feast doth last ! 
Men rise away, and scarce say grace, 
Or civilly once thank the face 
That did invite ; but seek another place. 20 

THE SIEGE. 

'T IS now since I sat down before 

That foolish fort, a heart, 
(Time strangely spent) a year or more. 

And still I did my part : 

Made my approaches, from her hand 5 

Unto her lip did rise, 
And did already understand 

The language of her eyes. 

Proceeded on with no less art 

(My tongue was engineer) 10 

I thought to "undermine the heart 

By whispering in the ear. 



SIR JOHN SUCKLING. 109 

When this did nothing, I brought down 

Great cannon-oaths, and shot 
A thousand thousand to the town, 15 

And still it yielded not. 

I then resolved to starve the place 

By cutting off all kisses. 
Praying, and gazing on her face, 

And all such little blisses. 20 

To draw her out, and from her strength, 

I drew all batteries in : 
And brought myself to lie, at length. 

As if no siege had been. 

When I had done what man could do, 25 

And thought the place mine own. 
The enemy lay quiet too. 

And smiled at all was done. 

I sent to know from whence and where 

These hopes and this relief. 30 

A spy informed. Honor was there. 
And did command in chief. 

' March, march,' quoth I, 'the word straight give. 

Let 's lose no time, but leave her ; 
That giant upon air will live, 35 

And hold it out for ever. 

To such a place our camp remove 

As will no siege abide ; 
I hate a fool that starves her love, 

Only to feed her pride.' 40 



110 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS, 

SONG. 

Honest lover whatsoever, 

If in all thy love there ever 

Was one wav'ring thought, if thy flame 

Were not still even, still the same : 

Know this, 5 

Thou lov'st amiss, 

And, to love true. 
Thou must begin again, and love anew. 

If when she appears i' th' room. 
Thou dost not quake, and art struck dumb, lo 

And in striving this to cover. 
Dost not speak thy words twice over : 
Know this, 

Thou lov'st amiss. 

And to love true, i5 

Thou must begin again, and love anew. 

If fondly thou dost not mistake. 
And all defects for graces take, 
Persuad'st thyself that jests are broken 
When she hath little or nothing spoken : 20 

Know this. 

Thou lov'st amiss. 

And to love true. 
Thou must begin again, and love anew. 

If when thou appear'st to be within, 25 

And lett'st not men ask and ask again ; 
And when thou answerest, if it be 
To what was asked thee, properly : 
Know this. 
Thou lov'st amiss, 3° 



SIR JO HAT SUCKLING. Ill 

And to love true, 
Thou must begin again, and love anew. 

If when thy stomach calls to eat. 
Thou cutt'st not fingers 'stead of meat. 
And with much gazing on her face 35 

Dost not rise hungry from the place : 
Know this. 

Thou lov'st amiss, 

And to love true. 
Thou must begin again, and love anew. 4° 

If by this thou dost discover 
That thou art no perfect lover, 
And desiring to love true, 
Thou dost begin to love anew : 

Know this, 45 

Thou lov'st amiss, 

And to love true. 
Thou must begin again, and love anew. 

Sir John Suckling, Last Re- 
mains, 1659; written before 
1642. 

CONSTANCY. 

Out upon it, I have loved 

Three whole days together ; 
And am like to love three more. 

If it prove fair weather. 

Time shall moult away his wings, 5 

Ere he shall discover 
In the whole wide world again 

Such a constant lover. 



112 SE VENTEENTH CENTUR Y L YRICS. 

But the spite on 't is, no praise 

Is due at all to me: 
Love with me had made no stays, 

Had it any been but she. 

Had it any been but she, 

And that very face, 
There had been at least ere this 

A dozen dozen in her place. 



SONG. 

I PRITHEE send me back my heart, 

Since I cannot have thine ; 
For if from yours you will not part. 

Why then shouldst thou have mine ? 

Yet, now I think on 't, let it lie ; 

To find it were in vain, 
For th' hast a thief in either eye 

Would steal it back again. 

Why should two hearts in one breast lie. 
And yet not lodge together ? 

O love, where is thy sympathy. 
If thus our breasts thou sever t 

But love is such a mystery, 

I cannot find it out : 
For when I think I 'm best resolv'd, 

I then am most in doubt. 

Then farewell care, and farewell woe ! 

I will no longer pine ; 
For I '11 believe I have her heart 

As much as she hath mine. 



JOHN MILTON. 113 

John Milton, Poems, English and 
Latin, 1645; written 1642. 

SONNET. 

WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE CITY. 

Captain or colonel, or knight in arms, 

Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, 

If deed of honor did thee ever please, 

Guard them, and him within protect from harms. 

He can requite thee, for he knows the charms 5 

That call fame on such gentle acts as these, 

And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas. 

Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. 

Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower : 

The great Emathian conqueror bid spare 10 

The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower 

Went to the ground ; and the repeated air 

Of sad Electra's poet had the power 

To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare. 



Richard Crashaw, Steps to the 
Temple, 1646 ; written before 
1643. 

A HYMN OF THE NATIVITY, 

sung by the SHEPHERDS. 

Chorus. 

Come, we shepherds whose blest sight 
Hath met Love's noon in Nature's night. 
Come, lift we up our loftier song 
And wake the sun that lies too long. 



114 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

To all our world of well-stol'n joy 5 

He slept, and dreamt of no such thing, 

While we found out heaven's fairer eye. 
And kissed the cradle of our King ; 

Tell him he rises now too late 

To show us aught worth looking at. lo 

Tell him we now can show him more 
Than he e'er showed to mortal sight, 

Than he himself e'er saw before. 

Which to be seen needs not his light : 

Tell him, Tityrus, where th' hast been, 15 

Tell him, Thyrsis, what th' hast seen. 



Tityrus. 

Gloomy night embraced the place 

Where the noble infant lay : 
The babe looked up, and showed his face: 

In spite of darkness it was day. 
It was thy day, sweet, and did rise. 
Not from the east but from thine eyes. 

Chorus. It was thy day, sweet, etc. 



Thyrsis, 

Winter chid aloud, and sent 

The angry North to wage his wars : 25 

The North forgot his fierce intent, 

And left perfumes instead of scars. 
By those sweet eyes' persuasive powers. 
Where he meant frosts he scattered flowers. 

Chorus. By those sweet eyes, etc. 30 



RICHARD CRASHAW. 115 

Both. 

We saw thee in thy balmy nest, 

Young dawn of our eternal day; 
We saw thine eyes break from the east, 

And chase the trembling shades away : 
We saw thee, and we blest the sight, 35 

We saw thee by thine own sweet light. 

Tztyrus. 
Poor world, said I, what wilt thou do 

To entertain this starry stranger ? 
Is this the best thou canst bestow — 

A cold and not too cleanly manger ? 40 

Contend, the powers of heaven and earth, 
To fit a bed for this huge birth. 

Chorus. Contend, the powers, etc. 
Thyrsis. 
Proud world, said I, cease your contest, 

And let the mighty babe alone, 45 

The phoenix builds the phoenix' nest, 

Love's architecture is his own. 
The babe, whose birth embraves this morn, 
Made his own bed ere he was born. 

Chorus. The babe, whose birth, etc. 5° 

Tityrus. 
I saw the curled drops, soft and slow. 

Come hovering o'er the place's head. 
Offering their whitest sheets of snow. 

To furnish the fair infant's bed. 
Forbear, said I, be not too bold ; 55 

Your fleece is white, but 't is too cold. 

Chorus. Forbear, said I, etc. 



116 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Thyrsis. 

I saw the obsequious seraphim 

Their rosy fleece of fire bestow, 
For well they now can spare their wing, 60 

Since heaven itself lies here below. 
Well done, said I ; but are you sure 
Your down, so warm, will pass for pure ? 

Chorus. Well done, said I, etc. 

Both. 

No, no, your King 's not yet to seek 65 

Where to repose his royal head ; 
See, see how soon his new-bloomed cheek 

'Twixt mother's breasts is gone to bed. 
Sweet choice, said we, no way but so 
Not to lie cold, yet sleep in snow ! 70 

Chorus. Sweet choice, said we, etc. 

Full Chorus. 

Welcome all wonders in our sight ! 

Eternity shut in a span ! 
Summer in winter ! day in night ! 

Heaven in earth ! and God in man ! 75 

Great little one, whose all-embracing birth 
Lifts earth to heaven, stoops heaven to earth ! 

Welcome, though nor to gold nor silk, 
To more than Ciesar's birthright is : 

Two sister seas of virgin's milk, 80 

With many a rarely-temper'd kiss. 

That breathes at once both maid and mother, 

Warms in the one, cools in the other. 



RICHARD CRASH AW. 117 

She sings thy tears asleep, and dips 

Her kisses in thy weeping eye ; 85 

She spreads the red leaves of thy lips, 

That in their buds yet blushing lie. 
She 'gainst those mother diamonds tries 
The points of her young eagle's eyes. 

Welcome — though not to those gay flies, 90 

Gilded i' th' beams of earthly kings, 

Slippery souls in smiling eyes — 

But to poor shepherds' homespun things, 

Whose wealth 's their flocks, whose wit to be 

Well read in their simplicity. 95 

Yet when young April's husband showers 

Shall bless the fruitful Maia's bed, 
We '11 bring the first-born of her flowers, 

To kiss thy feet, and crown thy head. 
To thee, dread Lamb ! whose love must keep 100 
The shepherds while they feed their sheep. 

To thee, meek Majesty, soft King 

Of simple graces and sweet loves. 
Each of us his lamb will bring. 

Each his pair of silver doves ; 105 

Till burnt at last, in fire of thy fair eyes, 
Ourselves become our own best sacrifice. 

ON THE ASSUMPTION OF THE VIRGIN MARY. 

Hark ! she is called, the parting hour is come ; 
Take thy farewell, poor world. Heaven must go home. 
A piece of heavenly earth ; purer and brighter 
Than the chaste stars, whose choice lamps come to light 
her, 



118 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Whilst through the crystal orbs, clearer than they, 5 

She climbs, and makes a far more milky way. 
She 's called again ; hark how the dear immortal dove 
Sighs to his silver mate, ' Rise up, my love, 
Rise up, my fair, my spotless one. 
The winter 's past, the rain is gone ; lo 

The spring is come, the flowers appear, 
No sweets, save thou, are wanting here. 
Come away, my love, 
Come away, my dove, 

Cast off delay ; 15 

The court of heaven is come 
To wait upon thee home ; 

Come away, come away ! 
The flowers appear. 
Or quickly would, wert thou once here. 20 

The spring is come, or if it stay 
'T is to keep time with thy delay. 
The rain is gone, except so much as we 
Detain in needful tears to weep the want of thee. 

The winter 's past, 25 

Or if he make less haste, 
His answer is, ' Why, she does so ; 
If summer come not, how can winter go ? 

Come away, come away ! 
The shrill winds chide, the waters weep thy stay, 3° 

The fountains murmur, and each loftiest tree 
Bows lowest his leafy top to look for thee. 
Come away, my love. 
Come away, my dove. 

Cast off delay ; 35 

The court of heaven is come 
To wait upon thee home ; 
Come, come awa}^ ' 



RICHARD CRASHAW. 119 

She 's called again. And will she go ? 

When heaven bids come, who can say no ? 40 

Heaven calls her, and she must away. 

Heaven will not, and she cannot stay. 

Go then ; go, glorious on the golden wings 

Of the bright youth of heaven, that sings 

Under so sweet a burden. Go, 45 

Since thy dread son will have it so. 

And while thou goest, our song and we 

Will, as we may, reach after thee. 

Hail, holy queen of humble hearts ! 

We in thy praise will have our parts. 5° 

And though thy dearest looks must now give light 
To none but the blest heavens, whose bright 
Beholders, lost in sweet delight. 
Feed for ever their fair sight 

With those divinest eyes, which we 55 

And our dark world no more shall see ; 
Though our poor joys are parted so. 
Yet shall our lips never let go 
Thy gracious name, but to the last 
Our loving song shall hold it fast. 60 

Thy precious name shall be 

Thyself to us, and we 
With holy care will keep it by us. 
We to the last 

Will hold it fast, 65 

And no assumption shall deny us. 

All the sweetest showers 

Of our fairest flowers 
Will we strow upon it. 

Though our sweets cannot make 7° 

It sweeter, they can take 

Themselves new sweetness from it. 



120 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Maria, men and angels sing, 
Maria, mother of our king. 

Live, rosy princess, live, and may the bright 75 

Crown of a most incomparable light 

Embrace thy radiant brows ! O may the best 

Of everlasting joys bathe thy white breast. 

Live, our chaste love, the holy mirth 
Of heaven ; the humble pride of earth. 80 
Live, crown of women ; queen of men ; 
Live, mistress of our song ; and when 
Our weak desires have done their best. 
Sweet angels come, and sing the rest. 



Richard Crashaw, The Delights 
of the Muses, 1646; written be- 
fore 1644. 

LOVE'S HOROSCOPE. 

Love, brave Virtue's younger brother, 
Erst hath made my heart a mother. 
She consults the conscious spheres, 
To calculate her young son's years ; 
She asks if sad or saving powers 
Gave omen to his infant hours ; 
She asks each star that then stood by 
If poor Love shall live or die. 

Ah, my heart, is that the way? 

Are these the beams that rule the day ? 

Thou knowst a face in whose each look 

Beauty lays ope Love's fortune-book, 

On whose fair revolutions wait 

The obsequious motions of man's fate. 



RICHARD CRASH AW. 121 

Ah, my heart ! her eyes and she ^5 

Have taught thee new astrology. 

Howe'er Love's native hours were set, 

Whatever starry synod met, 

'T is in the mercy of her eye, 

If poor Love shall live or die. 20 

If those sharp rays, putting on 

Points of death, bid Love be gone ; 

Though the heavens in council sate 

To crown an uncontrolled fate, 

Though their best aspects twined upon 25 

The kindest constellation. 

Cast amorous glances on his birth, 

And whispered the confederate earth 

To pave his paths with all the good 

That warms the bed of youth and blood — 3° 

Love has no plea against her eye ; 

Beauty frowns, and Love must die. 

But if her milder influence move, 

And gild the hopes of humble Love ; — 

Though heaven's inauspicious eye 35 

Lay black on Love's nativity; 

Though every diamond in Jove's crown 

Fixed his forehead to a frown ; — 

Her eye a strong appeal can give, 

Beauty smiles, and Love shall live. 

O, if Love shall live, O where 

But in her eye, or in her ear. 

In her breast, or in her breath. 

Shall I hide poor Love from death ? 

For in the life aught else can give, 45 

Love shall die, although he live. 



40 



122 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Or, if Love shall die, O, where 

But in her eye, or in her ear. 

In her breath, or in her breast. 

Shall I build his funeral nest ? 5° 

While Love shall thus entombed lie 

Love shall live, although he die. 



John Milton, Poems, English and 
Latin, 1645 ; written 1644. 

SONNET. 

TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY. 

Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth 

Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the green, 

And with those few art eminently seen 

That labor up the hill of heavenly truth, 

The better part, with Mary and with Ruth, 

Chosen thou hast ; and they that overween, 

And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, 

No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. 

Thy care is fixed, and zealously attends 

To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light. 

And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure 

Thou, when the Bridegroom with his feastful friends 

Passes to bliss at the mid-hour of night. 

Hast gained thy entrance, virgin wise and pure. 



EDMUND WALLER. 123 

r 

Edmund Waller, Poems iipon 
Several Occasions^ 1645 ; ^^^^ °^ 
writing uncertain. 

TO PHYLLIS. 

Phyllis, why should we delay, 

Pleasures shorter than the day ? 

Could we (which we never can) 

Stretch our lives beyond their span. 

Beauty like a shadow flies, 5 

And our youth before us dies ; 

Or, would youth and beauty stay, 

Love hath wings, and will away. 

Love hath swifter wings than Time : 

Change in love to heaven does climb; 10 

Gods, that never change their state, 

Vary oft their love and hate. 

Phyllis, to this truth we owe 
All the love betwixt us two. 

Let not you and I enquire ^5 

What has been our past desire; 
On what shepherds you have smiled, 
Or what nymphs I have beguiled; 
Leave it to the planets too, 

What we shall hereafter do : 20 

For the joys we now may prove, 
Take advice of present love. 

ON A GIRDLE. 

That which her slender waist confined 
Shall now my joyful temples bind ; 
No monarch but would give his crown, 
His arms might do what this has done. 



124 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

It was my heaven's extremest sphere, 
The pale which held that lovely deer ; 
My joy, my grief, my hope, my love. 
Did all within this circle move. 

A narrow compass, and yet there 
Dwelt all that 's good and all that 's fair ; 
Give me but what this ribband bound, 
Take all the rest the sun goes round ! 

TO FLAVIA. 

A SONG, 

'T IS not your beauty can engage 

My wary heart : 
The sun, in all his pride and rage, 

Has not that art ; 
And yet he shines as bright as you, 
If brightness could our souls subdue. 

'T is not the pretty things you say, 

Nor those you write, 
Which can make Thyrsis' heart your prey ; 

For that delight, 
The graces of a well-taught mind. 
In some of our own sex we find. 

No, Flavia, 't is your love I fear ; 

Love's surest darts, 
Those which so seldom fail him, are 

Headed with hearts ; 
Their very shadows make us yield ; 
Dissemble well, and win the field. 



JAMES SHIRLEY. 125 

ON THE ROSE. 

Go, lovely rose, 
Tell her that wastes her time and me, 

That now she knows, 
When I resemble her to thee. 
How sweet and fair she seems to be. S 

Tell her that 's young. 
And shuns to have her graces spied. 

That had'st thou sprung 
In deserts where no men abide. 
Thou must have uncommended died. lo 

Small is the worth 
Of beauty from the light retired ; 

Bid her come forth. 
Suffer herself to be desired, 
And not blush so to be admired. 15 

Then die, that she 
The common fate of all things rare 

May read in thee : 
How small a part of time they share. 
That are so wondrous sweet and fair. 20 



James Shirley, Poems, 1646. 

GOOD MORROW. 

Good morrow unto her who in the night 
Shoots from her silver brow more light 
Than Cynthia, upon whose state 
All other servile stars of beauty wait. 



126 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Good morrow unto her who gives the day, 

Whose eyes preserve a clearer ray 

Than Phoebus, when in Thetis' streams 

He hath new bathed himself and washed his beams. 

The day and night are only thine, and we 
Were lost in darkness but for thee ; 
For thee we live, all hearts are thine, 
But none so full of faith and flame as mine. 

FIE ON LOVE. 

Now fie on love ! it ill befits 
Or man or woman know it: 
Love was not meant for people in their wits, 
And they that fondly show it 
Betray their too much feathered brains, 
And shall have only Bedlam for their pains. 

To love is to distract my sleep. 
And waking to wear fetters ; 
To love is but to go to school to weep ; 
I '11 leave it to my betters. 
If single, love be such a curse. 
To marry is to make it ten times worse. 



Henry Vaughan, Poems, 1646. 

TO AMORET, GONE FROM HOME. 

Fancy and I last evening walked. 
And, Amoret, of thee we talked. 
The west just then had stol'n the sun. 
And his last blushes were begun. 



ABRAHAM COWLEY. 127 

We sate, and marked how every thing 5 

Did mourn his absence ; how the spring 

That smiled and curled about his beams, 

Whilst he was here, now checked her streams ; 

The wanton eddies of her face 

Were taught less noise and smoother grace ; lo 

And in a slow, sad channel went, 

Whisp'ring the banks their discontent. 

The careless banks of flowers that spread 

Their perfumed bosoms to his head, 

And with an open, free embrace, i5 

Did entertain his beamy face, 

Like absent friends point to the west. 

And on that weak reflection feast. 

If creatures then that have no sense. 

But the loose tie of influence — 20 

Though fate and time each day remove 

Those things that element their love — 

At such vast distance can agree, 

Why, Amoret, why should not we 1 



Abraham Cowley, The Mistress, 
1647. 

THE INCONSTANT. 

I NEVER yet could see that face 

Which had no dart for me; 
From fifteen years, to fifty's space, 
They all victorious be. 
Love, thou 'rt a devil, if I may call thee one ; 
For sure in me thy name is Legion. 



128 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Color or shape, good limbs or face, 

Goodness or wit, in all I find ; 
In motion or in speech a grace ; 

If all fail, yet 'tis womankind; lo 

And I 'm so weak, the pistol need not be 
Double or treble charged to murder me. 

If tall, the name of ' proper ' slays ; 

If fair, she 's pleasant in the light ; 
If low, her prettiness does please; 15 

If black, what lover loves not night ? 
If yellow-haired, I love lest it should be 
Th' excuse to others for not loving me. 

The fat, like plenty, fills my heart ; 

The lean, with love makes me too so; 20 

If straight, her body 's Cupid's dart 
To me ; if crooked, 't is his bow : 
Nay, age itself does me to rage incline, 
And strength to women gives, as well as wine. 

Just half as large as Charity 25 

My richly landed Love 's become ; 
And, judged aright, is Constancy, 
Though it take up a larger room : 
Him, who loves always one, why should they call 
More constant than the man loves always all ? 30 

Thus with unwearied wings I flee 

Through all Love's gardens and his fields ; 
And, like the wise, industrious bee, 
No weed but honey to me yields ! 
Honey still spent this dil'gence still supplies, 35 

Though I return not home with laden thighs. 



THOMAS STANLEY. 129 

My soul at first indeed did prove 

Of pretty strength against a dart, 
Till I this habit got of love ; 

But my consumed and wasted heart, 40 

Once burnt to tinder with a strong desire, 
Since that, by every spark is set on fire. 



Thomas Stanley, Poems and 
Translations., 1647. 

THE TOMB. 

When, cruel fair one, I am slain 

By thy disdain. 
And, as a trophy of thy scorn. 

To some old tomb am borne. 
Thy fetters must their power bequeath 5 

To those of death ; 
Nor can thy flame immortal burn. 
Like monumental fires within an urn ; 
Thus freed from thy proud empire, I shall prove 
There is more liberty in death than love. 10 

And when forsaken lovers come 

To see my tomb. 
Take heed thou mix not with the crowd 

And, as a victor, proud 
To view the spoils thy beauty made iS 

Press near my shade, 
Lest thy too cruel breath or name 
Should fan my ashes back into a flame. 
And thou, devoured by this revengeful fire, 
His sacrifice, who died as thine, expire. 20 



130 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

But if cold earth or marble must 

Conceal my dust, 
Whilst hid in some dark ruins, I 

Dumb and forgotten lie. 
The pride of all thy victory 25 

Will sleep with me ; 
And they who should attest thy glory, 
Will, or forget, or not believe this story, 
Then to increase thy triumph, let me rest. 
Since by thine eye slain, buried in thy breast. 30 

THE RELAPSE. 

O TURN away those cruel eyes. 

The stars of my undoing ; 
Or death in such a bright disguise 

May tempt a second wooing. 

Punish their blind and impious pride 5 

Who dare contemn thy glory ; 
It was my fall that deified 

Thy name and sealed thy story. 

Yet no new suffering can prepare 

A higher praise to crown thee ; 10 

Though my first death proclaim thee fair. 

My second will unthrone thee. 

Lovers will doubt thou can'st entice 

No other for thy fuel. 
And if thou burn one victim twice, iS 

Both think thee poor and cruel. 



RICHARD LOVELACE. 131 

CELIA SINGING. 

Roses in breathing forth their scent, 

Or stars their borrowed ornament, 

Nymphs in watery sphere that move. 

Or angels in their orbs above. 

The winged chariot of the light, 5 

Or the slow, silent wheels of night, 

The shade which from the swifter sun 

Doth in a circular motion run. 
Or souls that their eternal rest do keep. 
Make far more noise than Celia's breath in sleep. lo 

But if the angel, which inspires 

This subtle flame with active fires. 

Should mould his breath to words, and those 

Into a harmony dispose. 

The music of this heavenly sphere 15 

Would steal each soul out at the ear. 

And into plants and stones infuse 

A life that cherubim would choose, 
And with new powers invert the laws of fate. 
Kill those that live, and dead things animate. 20 



Richard Lovelace, Lucasta, Ep- 
odes, Odes, Sonnets, and Songs, 
1649 '■> written before 1648. 

TO LUCASTA, GOING BEYOND THE SEAS. 

If to be absent were to be 
Away from thee ; 
Or that when I am gone, 
You or I were alone ; 



132 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Then my Lucasta might I crave 
Pity from blust'ring wind or swallowing wave. 

But I '11 not sigh one blast or gale 
To swell my sail, 
Or pay a tear to 'suage 
The foaming blow-god's rage ; 
For whether he will let me pass 
Or no, I 'm still as happy as I was. 

Though seas and land betwixt us both, 
Our faith and troth, 
Like separated souls. 
All time and space controls: 
Above the highest sphere we meet, 
Unseen, unknown, and greet as angels greet. 

So then we do anticipate 
Our after-fate. 
And are alive i' th' skies, 
If thus our lips and eyes 
Can speak like spirits unconfined 
In heaven, their earthly bodies left behind. 

SONG. 

TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS. 

Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind. 

That from the nunnery 
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind 

To war and arms I fly. 

True, a new mistress now I chase. 

The first foe in the field; 
And with a stronger faith embrace 

A sword, a horse, a shield. 



RICHARD LOVELACE. 133 

Yet this inconstancy is such 

As you too shall adore : lo 

I could not love thee, dear, so much 

Loved I not honor more. 

SONG. 

Amarantha, sweet and fair, 

Ah braid no more that shining hair ; 

As my curious hand or eye. 

Hovering round thee, let it fly: 

Let it fly as unconfined 5 

As its ravisher the wind. 

Who has left his darling east 

To wanton o'er this spicy nest. 

Every tress must be confessed 

But neatly tangled at the best, lo 

Like a clew of golden thread, 

Most excellently ravelled, 

Do not then wind up that light 

In ribands, and o'ercloud the night; 

Like the sun in 's early ray, 15 

But shake your head and scatter day. 

THE SCRUTINY. 

Why should'st thou swear I am forsworn. 
Since thine I vowed to be ? 

Lady, it is already morn. 

And 't was last night I swore to thee 

That fond impossibility. 5 

Have I not loved thee much and long, 
A tedious twelve hours' space ? 



134 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

I should all other beauties wrong, 
And rob thee of a new embrace, 
Should I still dote upon thy face. lo 

Not but all joy in thy brown hair 
By others may be found ; 

But I must search the black and fair. 
Like skilful min'ralists that sound 
For treasure in un-plowed-up ground. 15 

Then if, when I have loved my round, 

Thou prov'st the pleasant she. 
With spoils of meaner beauties crowned, 

I laden will return to thee. 

E'en sated with variety. 20 

TO ALTHEA FROM PRISON. 

When Love with unconfined wings, 

Hovers within my gates. 
And my divine Althea brings 

To whisper at the grates ; 
When I lie tangled in her hair 5 

And fettered to her eye. 
The gods that wanton in the air 

Know no such liberty. 

When flowing cups run swiftly round 

With no allaying Thames, 10 

Our careless heads with roses crowned. 

Our hearts with loyal flames ; 
When thirsty grief in wine we steep, 

When healths and draughts go free, 
Fishes that tipple in the deep ^5 

Know no such liberty. 



THOMAS FORDE. 135 

When, like committed linnets, I 

With shriller throat shall sing 
The sweetness, mercy, majesty, 

And glories of my king; 20 

When I shall voice aloud how good 

He is, how great should be. 
Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, 

Know no such liberty. 

Stone walls do not a prison make, 25 

Nor iron bars a cage ; 
Minds innocent and quiet take 

That for an hermitage : 
If I have freedom in my love, 

And in my soul am free, 3° 

Angels alone, that soar above, 

Enjoy such liberty. 



Thomas Forde, Love's Labyrinth^ 
1660; written before 1648. 

THE BUSY MAN IS FREE. 

Fond Love, no more 
Will I adore 

Thy feigned deity ; 
Go throw thy darts 
At simple hearts. 

And prove thy victory. 



Whilst I do keep 
My harmless sheep. 

Love hath no power on me : 



136 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

'T is idle souls lo 

Which he controls ; 

The busy man is free. 



Robert Herrick, Hesperides^ 
1648 ; written between 1640 and 
1648. 

TO PERILLA. 

Ah, my Perilla ! dost thou grieve to see 

Me, day by day, to steal away from thee ? 

Age calls me hence, and my grey hairs bid come 

And haste away to mine eternal home ; 

'T will not be long, Perilla, after this, 5 

That I must give thee the supremest kiss. 

Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring 

Part of the cream from that religious spring, 

With which, Perilla, wash my hands and feet ; 

That done, then wind me in that very sheet 10 

Which wrapped thy smooth limbs when thou didst implore 

The gods' protection but the night before ; 

Follow me weeping to my turf, and there 

Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear: 

Then lastly, let some weekly strewings be 15 

Devoted to the memory of me ; 

Then shall my ghost not walk about, but keep 

Still in the cool and silent shades of sleep. 



ROBERT HER RICK. 137 



UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES. 

I HAVE lost, and lately, these 
Many dainty mistresses ; 
Stately Julia, prime of all : 
Sappho next, a principal ; 
Smooth Anthea, for a skin 
White and heaven-like crystalline ; 
Sweet Electra, and the choice 
Myrrha, for the lute and voice. 
Next, Corinna, for her wit. 
And the graceful use of it; 
With Perilla : all are gone. 
Only Herrick 's left alone. 
For to number sorrow by 
Their departures hence, and die. 



HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR. 

Only a little more 

I have to write. 

Then I '11 give o'er. 
And bid the world good-night. 

'T is but a flying minute 

That I must stay, 

Or linger in it ; 
And then I must away. 

O Time, that cut'st down all, 
And scarce leav'st here 
Memorial 

Of any men that were ! 



138 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

How many lie forgot 

In vaults beneath, 

And piecemeal rot 15 

Without a fame in death ! 

Behold this living stone 

I rear for me, 

Ne'er to be thrown 
Down, envious Time, by thee. 20 

Pillars let some set up, 

If so they please, 

Here is my hope. 
And my pyramides. 



Jasper Mayne, The Amorotis 
War, 1648. 

TIME IS THE FEATHERED THING. 

Time is the feathered thing. 
And, whilst I praise 
The sparklings of thy looks and call them rays, 
Takes wing. 
Leaving behind him as he flies 
An unperceived dimness in thine eyes. 
His minutes whilst th' are told 

Do make us old ; 
And every sand of his fleet glass, 
Increasing age as it doth pass. 
Insensibly sows wrinkles there 
Where flowers and roses do appear. 
Whilst we do speak, our fire 
Doth into ice expire ; 



JASPER MAYNE. 139 

Flames turn to frost, 15 

And ere we can 
Know how our crow turns swan, 
Or how a silver snow 
Springs there where jet did grow. 
Our fading spring is in dull winter lost. 20 

Since then the night hath hurled 
Darkness, love's shade, 
Over its enemy the day, and made 
The world 
Just such a blind and shapeless thing 25 

As 't was before light did from darkness spring, 
Let us employ its treasure 
And make shade pleasure ; 
Let 's number out the hours by blisses, 
And count the minutes by our kisses ; 3° 

Let the heavens new motions feel 
And by our embraces wheel ; 
And whilst we try the way 
By which love doth convey 

Soul into soul, 35 

And mingling so 
Makes them such raptures know 
As makes them entranced lie 
In mutual ecstasy. 
Let the harmonious spheres in music roll. 40 



140 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



Richard Crashaw, Carmen Deo 
Nostra, 1652 ; written before 
1649. 

A SONG. 

Lord, when the sense of thy sweet grace 
Sends up my soul to seek thy face, 
Thy blessed eyes breed such desire 
I die in love's delicious fire. 

love, I am thy sacrifice, 5 
Be still triumphant, blessed eyes ; 

Still shine on me, fair suns, that I 
Still may behold though still I die. 

Though still I die, I live again. 

Still longing so to be still slain; 10 

So painful is such loss of breath, 

1 die even in desire of death. 
Still live in me this loving strife 
Of living death and dying life: 

For while thou sweetly slayest me, ^5 

Dead to myself, I live in thee. 



James Graham, Marquess of 
Montrose; first printed in 171 1, 
written before 1650. 

MY DEAR AND ONLY LOVE. 

My dear and only love, I pray 

That little world of thee 
Be governed by no other sway 

Than purest monarchy ; 



MONTROSE. 141 

For if confusion have a part, 5 

Which virtuous souls abhor, 
And hold a synod in thy heart, 

I '11 never love thee more. 

As Alexander I will reign. 

And I will reign alone ; ^° 

My thoughts did evermore disdain 

A rival on my throne. 
He either fears his fate too much, 

Or his deserts are small, 
That dares not put it to the touch, ^5 

To gain or lose it all. 

But I will reign and govern still, 

And always give the law. 
And have each subject at my will, 

And all to stand in awe ; 20 

But 'gainst my batteries if I find 

Thou kick, or vex me sore, 
As that thou set me up a blind, 

I '11 never love thee more. 

And in the empire of thine heart, 25 

Where I should solely be, 
If others do pretend a part. 

Or dare to vie with me, 
Or if committees thou erect, 

And go on such a score, 3° 

I '11 laugh and sing at thy neglect, 

And never love thee more. 

But if thou wilt prove faithful, then, 
And constant of thy word, 



142 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

I '11 make thee glorious by my pen, 35 

And famous by my sword ; 
I '11 serve thee in such noble ways 

Was never heard before ; 
I 'II crown and deck thee all with bays, 

And love thee more and more. 4o 



Phineas Fletcher, A Father's 
Testafuent, 1670; written before 
1650 (?). 

TO THE SOUL. 

Fond soul is this 

Thy way to bliss ? 
Grasp both the Indies, let thy mighty hand 
The iron North and golden South command ; 

Transcend the moon, 5 

Fasten thy throne 
Above the fixed stars; above expressions, 
Above thy thought enlarge thy vast possessions : 

Fond soul, all this 
Can not make up thy bliss. 10 

All these are vain. 

Full, but with pain ; 
All creatures have their ends to serve, not bless thee ; 
As servants they may help, as lords oppress thee; 

They vex in getting 15 

Used, lost with fretting ; 
Can slaves advance ? shades fill ? can grief give rest ? 
That which was cursed for thee can't make thee blest: 

They all are vain 
And bring not bliss but pain. 20 



HENRY V A UGH AN. 143 

Fond soul, thy birth 

Is not of earth 
Or heaven ; thou earth and heaven itself survivest ; 
Though born in time, thou, dying, Time out-livest. 

They fail, deceive thee, 25 

They age, die, leave thee ; 
Soar up immortal spirit, and mounting fly 
Into the arms of great Eternity : 

Not heaven or earth, 
He, he thy end and birth. 3° 



Henry Vaughan, Silex Scintil- 
lans, Part I, 1 650. 

THE RETREAT. 

.Happy those early days, when I 

Shined in my angel-infancy,* 

Before I understood this place 

Appointed for my second race, 

Or taught my soul to fancy ought 5 

But a white, celestial thought ; 

When yet I had not walked above 

A mile or two from my first love. 

And looking back, at that short space, 

Could see a glimpse of his bright face; 10 

When on some gilded cloud, or flower 

My gazing soul would dwell an hour, 

And in those weaker glories spy 

Some shadows of eternity ; 

Before I taught my tongue to wound *5 

My conscience with a sinful sound, 

Or had the black art to dispense 

A sev'ral sin to ev'ry sense, 



144 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

But felt through all this fleshly dress 

Bright shoots of everlastingness. 20 

O how I long to travel back, 
And tread again that ancient track ! 
That I might once more reach that plain 
Where first I left my glorious train ; 
From whence th' enlightened spirit sees 25 

That shady City of palm-trees. 
But ah, my soul with too much stay 
Is drunk, and staggers in the way ! 
Some men a forward motion love. 
But I by backward steps would move ; 3° 

And, when this dust falls to the urn, 
In that state I came, return. 

PEACE. 

My soul, there is a country 

Afar beyond the stars. 
Where stands a winged sentry 

All skilful in the wars. 
There, above noise and danger, 5 

Sweet Peace sits crowned with smiles, 
And one born in a manger 

Commands the beauteous files. 
He is thy gracious friend 

And — O m.y soul, awake ! — 10 

Did in pure love descend 

To die here for thy sake. 
If thou canst get but thither. 

There grows the flower of peace, 
The rose that can not wither, '5 

Thy fortress and thy ease. 
Leave then thy foolish ranges ; 



HENRY VAUGHAN. 145 

For none can thee secure, 
But one, who never changes, 

Thy God, thy life, thy cure. 20 

LOVE, AND DISCIPLINE. 

Since in a land not barren still — 
Because thou dosf thy grace distil — 
My lot is fall'n, blest be thy will. 

And since these biting frosts but kill 

Some tares in me which choke or spill 5 

That seed thou sow'st, blest be thy skill. 

Blest be thy dew, and blest thy frost, 
And happy I to be so crost, 
And cured by crosses at thy cost. 

The dew doth cheer what is distrest, 10 

The frosts ill weeds nip and molest. 
In both thou work'st unto the best. 

Thus while thy several mercies plot, 
And work on me, now cold now hot, 
The work goes on and slacketh not; 15 

For as thy hand the weather steers. 
So thrive I best 'twixt joys and tears. 
And all the year have some green ears. 

THE WORLD. 

I SAW Eternity the other night 

Like a great ring of pure and endless light, 

All calm, as it was bright; 
And round beneath it. Time in hours, days, years, 



146 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Driv'n by the spheres, 5 

Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world 

And all her train were hurled. 
The doating lover in his quaintest strain 

Did there complain ; 
Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his flights, lo 

Wit's four delights, 
With gloves and knots, the silly snares of pleasure; 

Yet his dear treasure 
All scattered lay, while he his eyes did pour 

Upon a flower. 15 

The darksome statesman, hung with weights and woe, 
Like a thick midnight-fog, moved there so slow 

He did nor stay nor go; 
Condemning thoughts, like sad eclipses, scowl 

Upon his soul, 20 

And clouds of crying witnesses without 

Pursued him with one shout; 
Yet digged the mole, and, lest his ways be found, 

Worked under ground. 
Where he did clutch his prey. But one did see 25 

That policy : 
Churches and altars fed him ; perjuries 

Were gnats and flies ; 
It rained about him blood and tears; but he 

Drank them as free. 30 

The fearful miser on a heap of rust 

Sate pining all his life there, did scarce trust 

His own hands wdth the dust ; 
Yet would not place one piece above, but lives 

In fear of thieves. 35 

Thousands there were as frantic as himself 

And hugged each one his pelf ; 



HENRY VAUGHAN. 147 

The downright epicure placed heaven in sense, 

And scorned pretence ; 
While others, slipped into a wide excess, 40 

Said little less ; 
The weaker sort slight, trivial wares enslave. 

Who think them brave ; 
And poor, despised Truth sate counting by 

Their victory. 45 

Yet some, who all this time did weep and sing, 
And sing and weep, soared up into the ring ; 

But most would use no wing. 
O fools, said I, thus to prefer dark night 

Before true light ! 5° 

To live in grots and caves, and hate the day 

Because it shows the way. 
The way, which from this dead and dark abode 

Leads up to God ; 
A way where you might tread the sun, and be 55 

As bright as he ! 
But, as I did their madness so discuss. 

One whispered thus: 
"This ring the bridegroom did for none provide 

But for his bride." 60 



THE HIDDEN FLOWER. 

I WALKED the Other day to spend my hour 

Into a field 
Where I sometimes had seen the soil to yield 

A gallant flower ; 
But winter now had ruffled all the bower 

And curious store 
I knew there heretofore. 



148 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Yet I, whose search loved not to peep and peer 

I' th' face of things, 
Thought with myself, there might be other springs lo 

Besides this here. 
Which, like cold friends, sees us but once a year ; 

And so the flower 
Might have some other bower. 

Then, taking up what I could nearest spy, 15 

I digged about 
That place where I had seen him to grow out ; 

And by and by 
I saw the warm recluse alone to lie 

Where fresh and green 20 

He lived of us unseen. 

Many a question intricate and rare 

Did I there strow ; 
But all I could extort was, that he now 

Did there repair 25 

Such losses as befel him in this air. 

And would ere long 
Come forth most fair and young. 

This past, I threw the clothes quite o'er his head ; 

And, stung with fear 3° 

Of my own frailty, dropped down many a tear 

Upon his bed ; 
Then sighing whispered, ' Happy are the dead ! 

What peace doth now 
Rock him asleep below ! ' 35 

And yet, how few believe such doctrine springs 

From a poor root, 
Which all the winter sleeps here under foot, 



HENRY VAUGHAN. 149 

And hath no wings 
To raise it to the truth and light of things, 40 

But is still trod 
By every wand'ring clod. 

O Thou ! whose spirit did at first inflame 

And warm the dead, 
And by a sacred incubation fed 45 

With life this frame. 
Which once had neither being, form, nor name, — 

Grant I may so 
Thy steps track here below. 

That in these masques and shadows I may see 5° 

Thy sacred way ; 
And by those hid ascents climb to that day. 

Which breaks from thee 
Who art in all things, though invisibly ! 

Show me thy peace, 55 

Thy mercy, love, and ease ! 

And from this care, where dreams and sorrows reign, 

Lead me above, 
Where light, joy, leisure, and true comforts move 

Without all pain ; 60 

There, hid in thee, show me his life again. 

At whose dumb urn 
Thus all the year I mourn. 



150 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



Andrew Marvell, Miscellane- 
ous Poems ^ 1681 ; written before 
1651. 

THE CORONET. 

When for the thorns with which I long, too long, 

With many a piercing wound, 

My Saviour's head have crowned, 
I seek with garlands to redress that wrong, — 

Through every garden, every mead, 5 

I gather flowers (my fruits are only flowers), 

Dismantling all the fragrant towers 
That once adorned my shepherdess's head; 
And now, when I have summed up all my store, 

Thinking (so I myself deceive), 10 

So rich a chaplet thence to weave 
As never yet the King of Glory wore, 

Alas ! I find the Serpent old. 

That, twining in his speckled breast, 

About the flowers disguised does fold 15 

With wreaths of fame and interest. 
Ah foolish man, that wouldst debase with them 
And mortal glory, heaven's diadem ! 
But thou who only couldst the Serpent tame, 
Either his slipp'ry knots at once untie, 20 

And" disentangle all his winding snare; 
Or shatter too with him my curious frame, 
And let these wither — so that he may die — 
Though set with skill, and chosen out with care : 
That they while thou on both their spoils dost tread, 25 
May crown thy feet, that could not crown thy head. 



lO 



ANDREW MARVELL. 151 



BERMUDAS. 

Where the remote Bermudas ride 
In the ocean's bosom unespied, 
From a small boat, that rowed along, 
The listening winds received this song : 

What should we do but sing his praise, 

That led us through the watery maze, 

Unto an isle so long unknown, 

And yet far kinder than our own ? 

Where he the huge sea-monsters wracks. 

That lift the deep upon their backs, 

He lands us on a grassy stage, 

Safe from the storms' and prelates' rage. 

He gave us this eternal spring. 

Which here enamels everything, 

And sends the fowls to us in care ^5 

On daily visits through the air; 

He hangs in shades the orange bright, 

Like golden lamps in a green night. 

And does in the pomegranates close 

Jewels more rich than Ormus shows ; 20 

He makes the figs our mouths to meet, 

And throws the melons at our feet ; 

But apples plants of such a price 

No tree could ever bear them twice ; 

With cedars chosen by his hand 25 

From Lebanon, he stores the land, 

And makes the hollow seas, that roar, 

Proclaim the ambergris on shore; 

He cast (of which we rather boast) 

The gospel's pearl upon our coast, 3° 

And in these rocks for us did frame 



152 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

A temple, where to sound his name. 

let our voice his praise exalt, 
Till it arrive at heaven's vault. 

Which, thence (perhaps) rebounding may 35 

Echo beyond the Mexique bay. 

Thus sung they in the English boat, 

A holy and a cheerful note ; 

And all the way to guide their chime 

With falling oars they kept the time. 4o 

CLORINDA AND DAMON. 

Clori7ida. 
Damon, come drive thy flocks this way. 

Da7>io7i. 
No, 't is too late they went astray. 

C lor ill da. 

1 have a grassy scutcheon spied, 
Where Flora blazons all her pride ; 

The grass I aim to feast thy sheep, 5 

The flowers I for thy temples keep. 

Da^non. 
Grass withers, and the flowers too fade. 

Clormda. 
Seize the short joys then, ere they vade. 
Seest thou that unfrequented cave t 

Dainon. 
That den ? i« 



ANDREW MARVELL. 153 

Clormda. 
Love's shrine. 

Damon. 

But virtue's grave. 

Clorinda. 

In whose cool bosom we may lie, 
Safe from the sun. 

Da7no7i. 

Not heaven's eye. 

Clorinda. 

Near this, a fountain's liquid bell 
Tinkles within the concave shell. 

Damon. 

Might a soul bathe there and be clean, 15 

Or slake its drought? 

Clormda. 

What is 't you mean ? 

DajHon. 

These once had been enticing things, 
Clorinda — pastures, caves, and springs. 

Clorinda. 
And what late change ? 

Damon. 

The other day 
Pan met me. 20 



154 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Clori7ida. 
What did great Pan say ? 

Damon. 

Words that transcend poor shepherd's skill ; 
But he e'er since my songs does fill, 
And his name swells my slender oat. 

Clorinda. 
Sweet must Pan sound in Damon's note. 

Damon. 
Clorinda's voice might make it sweet. 25 

Clorinda. 
Who would not in Pan's praises meet ? 

Chorus. 

Of Pan the flowery pastures sing, 

Caves echo, and the fountains ring. 

Sing then while he doth us inspire ; 

For all the world is our Pan's choir. 30 

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THYRSIS AND 
DORINDA. 

Dorinda. 

When death shall snatch us from these kids, 
And shut up our divided lids, 
Tell me, Thyrsis, prithee do, 
Whither thou and I must go. 



ANDREW MARVELL. 155 

Thyrsis. 
To the Elysium. 5 

Doriiida. 

O where is 't ? 

Thyrsis. 
A chaste soul can never miss 't. 

Dorinda. 

I know no way but one : our home 
Is our Elysium. 

Thyrsis. 

Cast thine eye to yonder sky ; 
There the milky way doth lie : 
'T is a sure but rugged way 
That leads to everlasting day. 

Dorinda. 

There birds may nest, but how can I 
That have no wings and cannot fly ? 

Thyrsis. 

Do not sigh, fair nymph, for fire ^5 

Hath no wings, yet doth aspire 
Till it hit against the pole : 
Heaven 's the centre of the soul. 

Dorinda. 

But in Elysium how do they 

Pass eternity away? ^° 



lO 



156 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Thyrsis. 

there 's neither hope nor fear ; 
There 's no wolf, no fox, no bear ; 
No need of dog to fetch our stray, 
Our Lightfoot we may give away ; 

And there most sweetly may thine ear 25 

Feast with the music of the sphere. 

Dorinda. 

How I my future state 

By silent thinking antedate ! 

1 prithee let us spend our time [to] come 

In talking of Elysium. 3° 

Thy7'sis. 

Then I '11 go on : there, sheep are full 

Of softest grass and softest wool ; 

There birds sing consorts, garlands grow, 

Cool winds do whisper, springs do flow ; 

There always is a rising sun, 35 

And day is ever but begun ; 

Shepherds there bear equal sway, 

And every nymph 's a queen of May. 

Dorinda. 
Ah me ! ah me ! 

Thyrsis. 

Dorinda, why dost cry ? 

Dorinda. 
I 'm sick, I 'm sick, and fain would die. 4° 



A ANDREW MAR FELL. 157 

Thyrsis. 

Convince me now that this is true, 
By bidding with me all adieu. 

Dormda. 

I cannot live without thee, I 

Will for thee, much more with thee, die. 

Thyrsis. 

Then let us give Corellia charge o' th' sheep, 45 

And thou and I'll pick poppies, and them steep 
In wine, and drink on 't even till we weep : 
So shall w^e smoothly pass away in sleep. 

THE FAIR SINGER. 

To make a final conquest of all me, 

Love did compose so sweet an enemy, 

In whom both beauties to my death agree. 

Joining themselves in fatal harmony ; 

That, while she with her eyes my heart does bind, 5 

She with her voice might captivate my mind. 

I could have fled from one but singly fair ; 

My disentangled soul itself might save, 

Breaking the curled trammels of her hair ; 

But how should I avoid to be her slave lo 

Whose subtle art invisibly can wreathe 

My fetters of the very air I breathe ? 

It had been easy fighting in some plain. 

Where victory might hang in equal choice ; 

But all resistance against her is vain iS 

Who has th' advantage both of eyes and voice ; 



158 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

And all my forces needs must be undone, 
She having gained both the wind and sun. 



TO HIS COY MISTRESS. 

Had we but world enough and time, 

This coyness, lady, were no crime. 

We would sit down and think which way 

To walk and pass our long love's day. 

Thou by the Indian Ganges' side 5 

Shouldst rubies find ; I by the tide 

Of Humber would complain. I would 

Love you ten years before the Flood ; 

And you should, if you please, refuse 

Till the conversion of the Jews. lo 

My vegetable love should grow 

Vaster than empires, and more slow ; 

An hundred years should go to praise 

Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze ; 

Two hundred to adore each breast, 15 

But thirty thousand to the rest ; 

An age at least to every part. 

And the last age should show your heart. 

For, lady, you deserve this state. 

Nor would I love at lower rate. 20 

But at my back I always hear 

Time's winged chariot hurrying near ; 

And yonder all before us lie 

Deserts of vast eternity. 

Thy beauty shall no more be found, 25 

Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound 

My echoing song ; then worms shall try 

That long preserved virginity; 



ANDREW MARVELL. 159 

And your quaint honor turn to dust, 

And into ashes all my lust : 3° 

The grave 's a fine and private place, 

But none, I think, do there embrace. 

Now therefore while the youthful hue 

Sits on thy skin like morning dew, 

And while thy willing soul transpires 35 

At every pore with instant fires. 

Now let us sport us while we may, 

And now, like amorous birds of prey. 

Rather at once our time devour 

Than languish in his slow-chapt power. 4o 

Let us roll all our strength, and all 

Our ^sweetness up into one ball ; 

And tear our pleasures with rough strife 

Thorough the iron gates of life : 

Thus, though we cannot make our sun 45 

Stand still, yet we will make him run. 



THE PICTURE OF LITTLE T. C. IN A PROSPECT 
OF FLOWERS. 

See with what simplicity 
This nymph begins her golden days ! 
In the green grass she loves to lie. 
And there with her fair aspect tames 
The wilder flowers and gives them names, 
But only with the roses plays. 

And them does tell 
What colors best become them and what smell. 

Who can foretell for what high cause. 

This darling of the gods was born ? ic 



160 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Yet this is she whose chaster laws 
The wanton Love shall one day fear, 
And, under her command severe, 
See his bow broke, and ensigns torn. 

Happy who can 15 

Appease this virtuous enemy of man ! 

O then let me in time compound 

And parley with those conquering eyes. 

Ere they have tried their force to wound; 

Ere with their glancing wheels they drive 20 

In triumph over hearts that strive. 

And them that yield but more despise : 

Let me be laid, 
Where I may see the glories from some' shade. 

Meantime, whilst every verdant thing 25 

Itself does at thy beauty charm, 

Reform the errors of the spring ; 

Make that the tulips may have share 

Of sweetness, seeing they are fair ; 

And roses of their thorns disarm ; 3° 

But most procure 
That violets may a longer age endure. 

But O, young beauty of the woods. 

Whom nature courts with fruit and flowers. 

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds, Zl 

Lest Flora, angry at thy crime 

To kill her infants in their prime, 

Do quickly make th' example yours ; 

And ere we see, 
Nip, in the blossom, all our hopes and thee. 4° 



ANDREW MARVELL. 161 

THE MOWER TO THE GLOW-WORMS. 

Ye living lamps, by whose dear light 
The nightingale does sit so late, 
And studying all the summer night. 
Her matchless songs does meditate ; 

Ye country comets, that portend 5 

No war nor prince's funeral, 
Shining unto no higher end 
Than to presage the grass's fall ; 

Ye glow-worms, whose officious flame 

To wandering mowers shows the way, lo 

That in the night have lost their aim. 

And after foolish fires do stray ; 

Your courteous lights in vain you waste. 
Since Juliana here is come ; 

For she my mind hath so displaced, 15 

That I shall never find my home. 

THE MOWER'S SONG. 

My mind was once the true survey 
Of all these meadows fresh and gay, 
And in the greenness of the grass 
Did see its hopes as in a glass ; 

When Juliana came, and she, 5 

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me. 

But these, while I with sorrow pine. 
Grew more luxuriant still and fine, 
That not one blade of grass you spied 
But had a flower on either side ; 10 

When Juliana came, and she, 
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me. 



162 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Unthankful meadows, could you so 
A fellowship so true forego, 

And in your gaudy May-games meet, 15 

While I lay trodden under feet — 
When Juliana came, and she. 
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me ? 

But what you in compassion ought, 
Shall now by my revenge be wrought ; 20 

And flowers, and grass, and I, and all, 
Will in one common ruin fall ; 
For Juliana comes, and she. 
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me. 

And thus, ye meadows, which have been 25 

Companions of my thoughts more green, 
Shall now the heraldry become 
With which I shall adorn my tomb ; 
For Juliana came, and she, 
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me. 3° 



MAKING HAY-ROPES. 

Ametas. 

Think'st thou that this love can stand. 
Whilst thou still dost say me nay ? 

Love unpaid does soon disband : 
Love binds love as hay binds hay. 

Thestylis. 

Think'st thou that this rope would twine 
If we both should turn one way ? 

Where both parties so combine, 
Neither love will twist nor hay. 



SIR EDWARD SHERBURNE. 163 

A?netas. 

Thus you vain excuses find, 

Which yourself and us delay ; lo 

And love ties a woman's mind 

Looser than with ropes of hay. 

Thestylis. 

What you cannot constant hope 
Must be taken as you may. 

A 7netas. 

Then let 's both lay by our rope 15 

And go kiss within the hay. 



Sir Edward Sherburne, Sal- 
masis, Lyrian and Sylvia^ 1651. 

THE VOW. 

By my life I vow, 

That my life art thou. 
By my heart and by my eyes ; 

But thy faith denies 
To my juster oath t' incline, 
For thou say'st I swear by thine. 

By this sigh I swear, 

By this falling tear. 
By the undeserved pains 

My griev'd soul sustains : 
Now thou may'st believe my moan. 
These are too too much my own. 



164 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

WEEPING AND KISSING. 

A KISS I begged, but smiling she 

Denied it me ; 
When straight, her cheeks with tears o'erflown — 

Now kinder grown — 
What smiling she 'd not let one have 

She weeping gave. 
Then you whom scornful beauties awe, 

Hope yet relief 
From Love, who tears from smiles can draw, 

Pleasure from grief. 

NOVO INAMORAMENTO. 

And yet anew entangled, see 

Him who escaped the snare so late ! 

A truce, no league, thou mad'st with me, 
False love, which now is out of date : 

Fool, to believe the fire quite out, alas. 

Which only laid asleep in embers was. 

The sickness not at first past cure. 

By this relapse despiseth art. 
Now, treacherous boy, thou hast me sure. 

Playing the wanton with my heart. 
As foolish children that a bird have got 
Slacken the thread, but not untie the knot. 

THE SWEETMEAT. 

Thou gav'st me late to eat 
A sweet without, but within, bitter meat : 
As if thou would'st have said ' Here, taste in this 
What Celia is.' 



SIR EDWARD SHERBURNE. 165 

But if there ought to be 5 

A likeness, dearest, 'twixt thy gift and thee, 
Why first what 's sweet in thee should I not taste. 
The bitter last ? 



CHANGE DEFENDED. 

Leave, Chloris, leave; I pray no more 
With want of love or lightness charge me. 

'Cause thy looks captived me before, 
May not another's now enlarge me.-* 

He whose misguided zeal hath long 5 

Paid homage to some pale star's light. 

Better informed, may without wrong 
Leave that t' adore the queen of night. 

Then if my heart, which long served thee, 

Will to Carintha now incline ; lo 

Why termed inconstant should it be 
For bowing 'fore a richer shrine ? 

Censure those lovers so, whose will 

Inferior objects can entice ; 
Who changes for the better still, 15 

Makes that a virtue, you call vice. 



THE FOUNTAIN. 

Stranger, whoe'er thou art, that stoop'st to taste 
These sweeter streams, let me arrest thy haste ; 
Nor of their fall 

The murmurs (though the lyre 

Less sweet be) stand to admire. 5 



166 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

But as you shall 
See from this marble tun 
The liquid crystal run, 
And mark withal 
How fixed the one abides, 
How fast the other glides ; 
Instructed thus, the difference learn to see 
'Twixt mortal life and immortahty. 



John Milton, Letters of State, 
1694, written 1652. 

SONNET. 

XVI. 

TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL. 

Cromwell, our chief of men, w^ho through a cloud 

Not of war only, but detractions rude, 

Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, 

To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed. 

And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud 

Hast reared God's trophies, and his work pursued. 

While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots imbrued. 

And Dunbar field, resounds thy praises loud. 

And Worcester's laureate wreath : yet much remains 

To conquer still ; peace hath her victories 

No less renowned than war : new foes arise. 

Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains. 

Help us to save free conscience from the paw 

Of hireling wolves, whose Gospel is their maw. 



JAMES SHIRLEY. 167 

James Shirley, Ciipid and Death, 

1653- 

DEATH'S SUBTLE WAYS. 

Victorious men of earth, no more 

Proclaim how wide your empires are ; 

Though you bind in every shore 

And your triumphs reach as far 

As night or day, 5 

Yet you, proud monarchs, must obey 

And mingle with forgotten ashes when 

Death calls ye to the crowd of common men. 

Devouring famine, plague, and war, 

Each able to undo mankind, 10 

Death's servile emissaries are ; 

Nor to these alone confined. 
He hath at will 
More quaint and subtle ways to kill : 
A smile or kiss, as he will use the art, 15 

Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart. 



John Milton, Poems upon Several 
Occasions, 1673; written 1655. 

SONNETS. 

XVIII. 
ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEDMONT. 

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold ; 
Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old. 
When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, 



168 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Forget not : in thy book record their groans 
Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold 
Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled 
Mother and infant down the rocks. Their moans 
The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
To heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow 
O'er all th' Italian fields, where still doth sway 
The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow 
A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way, 
Early may fly the Babylonian woe. 

XIX. 

ON HIS BLINDNESS. 

When I consider how my light is spent. 

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, 

And that one talent which is death to hide 

Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 

To serve therewith my Maker, and present 

My true account, lest he returning chide, 

' Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ? ' 

I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent 

That murmur, soon replies, 'God doth not need 

Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best 

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state 

Is kingly : thousands at his bidding speed, 

And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 

They also serve who only stand and wait.' 



HENRY VAUGHAN. 169 



Henry Vaughan, Silcx Scintil- 
lans, Part II, 1655. 

DEPARTED FRIENDS. 

They are all gone into the world of light, 

And I alone sit ling'ring here. 
Their very memory is fair and bright, 

And my sad thoughts doth clear. 

It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast 5 

Like stars upon some gloomy grove, 
Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest 

After the sun's remove. 

I see them walking in an air of glory, 

Whose light doth trample on my days ; 10 

My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, 

Mere glimmerings and decays. 

O holy hope ! and high humility ! 

High as the heavens above ; 
These are your walks, and you have show'd them me, 15 

To kindle my cold love. 

Dear, beauteous death, the jewel of the just. 

Shining nowhere but in the dark ; 
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust. 

Could man outlook that mark ! 20 

He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know 

At first sight if the bird be flown ; 
But what fair well or grove he sings in now, 

That is to him unknown. 

And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams 25 

Call to the soul when man doth sleep, 



170 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, 
And into glory peep. 

If a star were confined into a tomb, 

Her captive flames must needs burn there ; 3° 

But when the hand that locked her up gives room. 

She '11 shine through all the sphere. 

O Father of eternal life, and all 

Created glories under thee ! 
Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall 35 

Into true liberty! 

Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill 

My perspective still as they pass; 
Or else remove me hence unto that hill, 

Where I shall need no glass. 4o 

THE THRONE. 

When with these eyes, closed now by thee, 

But then restored. 
The great and white throne I shall see 

Of my dread Lord ; 
And lowly kneeling — for the most 5 

Stiff then must kneel — 
Shall look on him at whose high cost, 

Unseen, such joys I feel; 

Whatever arguments or skill 

Wise heads shall use, lo 

Tears and my blushes still 

Will I produce. 
And should these speechless beggars fail. 

Which oft have won. 
Then, taught by thee, I will prevail 15 

And say: "Thy will be done." 



CHARLES COTTON. 171 

Charles Cotton, Poems on Several 
Occasions, 1689; written about 
1655. 

ODE. 

The day is set did earth adorn, 

To drink the brewing of the main ; 
And, hot with travel, will ere morn 

Carouse it to an ebb again. 
Then let us drink, time to improve, 5 

Secure of Cromwell and his spies ; 
Night will conceal our healths and love, 

For all her thousand thousand eyes. 

Chorus. 
Then let us drink, secure of spies, 
To Phoebus and his second rise. 10 

Without the evening dew and showers 

The earth would be a barren place. 
Of trees and plants, of herbs and flowers, 

To crown her now enamelled face ; 
Nor can wit spring, nor fancies grow, '5 

Unless we dew our heads in wine, 
Plump autumn's wealthy overflow 

And sprightly issue of the vine. 

Chorus. 
Then let us drink, secure of spies, 
To Phoebus and his second rise. 20 

Wine is the cure of cares and sloth, 

That rust the metal of the mind ; 
The juice that man to man does both 

In freedom and in friendship bind. 
This clears the monarch's cloudy brows, 25 



172 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

And cheers the hearts of sullen swains, 
To wearied souls repose allows, 

And makes slaves caper in their chains. 

Chorus. 
Then let us drink, secure of spies, 
To Phoebus and his second rise. 3° 

Wine, that distributes to each part 

Its heat and motion, is the spring, 
The poet's head, the subject's heart, 

'T was wine made old Anacreon sing. 
Then let us quaff it while the night 35 

Serves but to hide such guilty souls. 
As fly the beauty of the light 

Or dare not pledge our loyal bowls. 
Chorus. 
Then let us revel, quaff and sing, 
Health and his sceptre to the king. 4° 

ODE. 

Fair Isabel, if aught but thee 

I could, or would, or like, or love ; 
If other beauties but approve 
To sweeten my captivity : 

I might those passions be above, 5 

Those powerful passions, that combine 
To make and keep me only thine. 

Or if for tempting treasure, I 

Of the world's god, prevailing gold. 
Could see thy love and my truth sold, lo 

A greater, nobler treasury : 

My flame to thee might then grow cold, 
And I, like one whose love is sense, 
Exchange thee for convenience. 



ABRAHAM COWLEY. 173 

But when I vow to thee I do 15 

Love thee above or health or peace, 
Gold, joy, and all such toys as these, 
'Bove happiness and honor too : 

Thou then must know, this love can cease 

Nor change, for all the glorious show 20 

Wealth and discretion bribes us to. 

What such a love deserves, thou, sweet, 
As knowing best, mayst best reward ; 
I, for thy bounty well prepared, 
With open arms my blessing meet. 25 

Then do not, dear, our joys detard ; 
But unto him propitious be 
That knows no love, nor life, but thee. 



Abraham Cowley, Miscellanies, 
1656. 

THE CHRONICLE. 

A BALLAD. 

Margarita first possessed. 
If I remember well, my breast, 

Margarita first of all ; 
But when awhile the wanton maid 
With my restless heart had played, 5 

Martha took the flying ball. 

Martha soon did it resign 
To the beauteous Catherine. 

Beauteous Catherine gave place 
(Though loth and angry she to part 10 

With the possession of my heart) 

To Elisa's conquering face. 



174 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Elisa till this hour might reign 
Had she not evil counsels ta'en. 

Fundamental laws she broke, '5 

And still new favorites she chose, 
Till up in arms my passions rose, 

And cast away her yoke. 

Mary then and gentle Ann 

Both to reign at once began, 20 

Alternately they swayed ; 
And sometimes Mary was the fair, 
And sometimes Ann the crown did wear ; 

And sometimes both I obeyed. 

Another Mary then arose 25 

And did rigorous laws impose. 

A mighty tyrant she ! 
Long, alas, should I have been 
Under that iron-sceptred Queen, 

Had not Rebecca set me free. 3° 

When fair Rebecca set me free, 
'Twas then a golden time with me. 

But soon those pleasures fled ; 
For the gracious princess died 
In her youth and beauty's pride, 35 

And Judith reigned in her stead. 

One month, three days and half an hour 
Judith held the sovereign power. 

Wondrous beautiful her face ; 
But so small and weak her wit, 4° 

That she to govern was unfit, 

And so Susanna took her place. 



ABRAHAM COWLEY. 175 

But when Isabella came 
Armed with a resistless flame 

And th' artillery of her eye ; 45 

Whilst she proudly marched about 
Greater conquests to find out, 

She beat out Susan by the by. 

But in her place I then obeyed 

Black-eyed Bess, her viceroy-maid, 5° 

To whom ensued a vacancy. 
Thousand worse passions then possessed 
The interregnum of my breast. 

Bless me from such an anarchy ! 

Gentle Henrietta than 55 

And a third Mary next began, 

Then Joan, and Jane, and Audria. 
And then a pretty Thomasine, 
And then another Catherine, 

And then a long et ccetera. 6o 

But should I now to you relate, 

The strength and riches of their state, 

The powder, patches, and the pins, 
The ribbands, jewels, and the rings, 
The lace, the paint, and warlike things 65 

That make up all their magazines ; 

If I should tell the politic arts 
To take and keep men's hearts. 

The letters, embassies and spies. 
The frowns, and smiles, and flatteries, 70 

The quarrels, tears and perjuries. 

Numberless, nameless mysteries ! 



176 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

And all the little lime-twigs laid 
By Matchavil, the waiting-maid ; 

I more voluminous should grow 75 

(Chiefly if I like them should tell 
All change of weathers that befell) 

Than Holinshed or Stow. 

But I will briefer with them be, 

Since few of them were long with me. 80 

An higher and a nobler strain 
My present Emperess does claim, 
Heleonora, first o' th' name ; 

Whom God grant long to reign ! 



ANACREONTIQUE II. 

DRINKING. 

The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, 
And drinks, and gapes for drink again. 
The plants suck in the earth, and are 
With constant drinking fresh and fair. 
The sea itself, which one would think 
Should have but little need of drink, 
Drinks ten thousand rivers up, 
So filled that they o'erflow the cup. 
The busy sun — and one would guess 
By 's drunken fiery face no less — 
Drinks up the sea, and when he has done, 
The moon and stars drink up the sun ; 
They drink and dance by their own light, 
They drink and revel all the night. 
Nothing in nature 's sober found. 
But an eternal health goes round. 



HENRY KING. 177 

Fill up the bowl then, fill it high ; 

Fill all the glasses there, for why 

Should every creature drink but I — 

Why, men of morals, tell me why ? 20 



Henry King, Poems, Elegies , 
Paradoxes, and Sonnets, 1657. 

SONNET. 

Tell me no more how fair she is, 

I have no mind to hear 
The story of that distant bliss 

I never shall come near: 
By sad experience I have found 
That her perfection is my wound. 

And tell me not how fond I am 

To tempt my daring fate, 
From whence no triumph ever came, 

But to repent too late: 
There is some hope ere long I may 
In silence dote myself away. 

I ask no pity, Love, from thee. 

Nor will thy justice blame. 
So that thou wilt not envy me 

The glory of my flame. 
Which crowns my heart whene'er it dies, 
In that it falls her sacrifice. 



178 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Henry Harrington, in Henry 
Lawe's Airs and Dialogues, 
Third Book, 1658. 

SONG. 

Trust the form of airy things, 
Or a siren when she sings, 
Trust the sly hyena's voice, 
Or of all distrust make choice, — 
And believe these sooner than 
Truth in women, faith in men. 



John Milton, Poems on Several 
Occasions, 1673; written 1658. 

SONNET. 

XXIII. 
ON HIS DECEASED WIFE. 

Methought I saw my late espoused saint 
Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave. 
Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave. 
Rescued from Death by force, though pale and faint. 
Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint 
Purification in the Old Law did save, 
And such as yet once more I trust to have 
Full sight of her in heaven without restraint, 
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. 
Her face was veiled; yet to my fancied sight 
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined 
So clear as in no face with more delight. 
But, O ! as to embrace me she inclined, 
I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night. 



THOMAS FLATMAN. 179 



Thomas Flatman, Poems and 
Songs, 1674; written 1659. 



FOR THOUGHTS. 

Thoughts ! what are they ? 
They are my constant friends, 
Who, when harsh Fate its dull brow bends, 
Uncloud me with a smiling ray, 
And in the depth of midnight force a day. 5 

When I retire and flee 
The busy throngs of company 
To hug myself in privacy, 
O the discourse ! the pleasant talk 
'Twixt us, my thoughts, along a lonely walk! 10 

You (like the stupefying wine 
The dying malefactors sip 

With trembling lip, 
T' abate the rigor of their doom 
By a less troublous cut to their long home) 15 

Make me slight crosses, though they piled up lie, 
All by the magic of an ecstasy. 

Do I desire to see 
The throne and awful majesty 

Of that proud one, 20 

Brother and uncle to the stars and sun? 
These can conduct me where such toys reside 
And waft me 'cross the main, sans wind and tide. 

Would I descry 
Those radiant mansions 'bove the sky, 25 

Invisible to mortal eye. 

My thoughts can eas'ly lay 



180 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS, 

A shining track thereto, 

And nimbly flitting go ; 
Through all th' eleven orbs can shove a way. 30 

My thoughts like Jacob's ladder are 
A most angelic thoroughfare. 

The wealth that shines 
In th' oriental mines ; 
Those sparkling gems which Nature keeps 35 

Within her cabinets, the deeps; 

The verdant fields, 
Those rarities the rich world yields, 
Huge structures, whose each gilded spire 
Glisters like lightning, which while men admire 4° 

They deem the neighboring sky on fire — 
These can I dwell upon and 'live mine eyes 
With millions of varieties. 
As on the front of Pisgah I 
Can th' Holy Land through these my optics spy. 45 

Contemn we then 
The peevish rage of men, 
Whose violence can ne'er divorce 
Our mutual amity. 

Or lay so damned a curse 5° 

As non-addresses 'twixt my thoughts and me ; 

For though I sigh in irons, they 
Use their old freedom, readily obey. 
And, when my bosom friends desert me, stay. 

Come then, my darlings, I '11 embrace 55 

My privilege ; make known 
The high prerogative I own. 
By making all allurements give you place, 



THOMAS FLATMAN. 181 

Whose sweet society to me 
A sanctuary and a shield shall be 60 

'Gainst the full quivers of my Destiny. 



A WISH. 

Not to the hills where cedars move 

Their cloudy heads; not to the grove 

Of myrtles in th' Elysian shade, 

Nor Tempe which the poets made, 

Not on the spicy mountains play. 

Or travel to Arabia, 

I aim not at the careful throne 

Which Fortune's darlings sit upon : 

No, no, the best this fickle world can give 

Has but a little, little time to live. 

But let me soar, O let me fly 
Beyond poor earth's benighted eye. 
Beyond the pitch swift eagles tower, 
Beyond the reach of human power, 
Above the clouds, above the way 
Whence the sun darts his piercing ray, 
O let me tread those courts that are 
So bright, so pure, so blest, so fair, 
As neither thou nor I must ever know 
On earth : 't is thither, thither would I go. 



182 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Alexander Brome, Songs and 
Other Poems, 1661 ; written be- 
fore 1660. 

THE RESOLVE. 

Tell me not of a face that 's fair, 

Nor lip and cheek that 's red, 
Nor of the tresses of her hair, 

Nor curls in order laid ; 
Nor of a rare seraphic voice, 5 

That like an angel sings ; 
Though, if I were to take my choice, 

I would have all these things. 
But if that thou wilt have me love. 

And it must be a she, 10 

The only argument can move 

Is, that she will love me. 

The glories of your ladies be 

But metaphors of things, 
And but resemble what we see 15 

Each common object brings. 
Roses out-red their lips and cheeks, 

Lilies their whiteness stain : 
What fool is he that shadows seeks. 

And may the substance gain ! 20 

Then if thou 'It have me love a lass, 

Let it be one that 's kind, 
Else I 'm a servant to the glass 

That 's with Canary lined. 

A MOCK SONG. 

'T IS true I never was in love ; 
But now I mean to be, 



SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT. 183 

For there 's no art 
Can shield a heart 
From love's supremacy. 5 

Though in my nonage I have seen 

A world of taking faces, 
I had not age or wit to ken 

Their several hidden graces. 

Those virtues which, though thinly set, lo 

In others are admired. 
In thee are altogether met, 

Which make thee so desired ; 

That though I never was in love, 

Nor never meant to be, 15 

Thyself and parts 

Above my arts 
Have drawn my heart to thee. 



Sir William Davenant, Poems 
on Several Occasions^ 1672 ; 
written before 1660. 

SONG, 

AGAINST woman's PRIDE. 

Why dost thou seem to boast, vainglorious sun ? 

Why should thy bright complexion make thee proud ? 
Think but how often since thy race begun 

Thou wert eclipsed, then blush behind a cloud. 

Or why look you, fair Empress of the night, 

So big upon 't, when you at full appear ? 
Remember yours is but a borrowed light. 

Then shrink with paleness in your giddy sphere. 



184 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

If neither sun nor moon can justify 

Their pride, how ill it women then befits 

That are on earth but ignes fatui 

That lead poor men to wander from their wits. 

SONG. 

The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest, 
And, climbing, shakes his dewy wings. 

He takes this window for the east. 
And to implore your light, he sings: 

Awake, awake, the morn will never rise 

Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes. 

The merchant bows unto the seaman's star. 

The ploughman from the sun his season takes; 

But still the lover wonders what they are 
Who look for day before his mistress wakes. 

Awake, awake, break through your veils of lawn. 

Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn. 



Katherine Philips, Poems by 
. . . t^e Matchless Orinda, 1667 ; 
written before 1664. 

AN ANSWER TO ANOTHER PERSUADING A LADY 
TO MARRIAGE. 

Forbear, bold youth ; all 's heaven here. 

And what do you aver. 
To others courtship may appear; 

'T is sacrilege to her. 

She is a public deity, 5 

And were 't not very odd 



SIR WILLIAM KILLEGREW. 185 

She should depose herself to be 
A petty household god ? 

First make the sun in private shine 

And bid the world adieu, lo 

That so he may his beams confine 

In compliment to you. 

But if of that you do despair, 

Think how you did amiss 
To strive to fix her beams, which are 15 

More bright and large than his. 



Sir William Killegrew, Se- 
litidra, 1665; acted 1664. 

SONG. 

Come, come, thou glorious object of my sight, 
O my joy, my life, my own delight ! 

May this glad minute be 

Blessed to eternity ! 
See how the glimmering tapers of the sky 
Do gaze, and wonder at our constancy. 

How they crowd to behold 

What our arms do unfold ! 
How do all envy our felicities, 
And grudge the triumphs of Selindra's eyes ! 

How Cynthia seeks to shroud 

Her crescent in yon cloud ! 
Where sad night puts her sable mantle on. 
Thy light mistaking, hasteth to be gone ; 

Her gloomy shades give way. 

As at the approach of day ; 



186 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

And all the planets shrink, in doubt to be 
Eclipsed by a brighter deity. 

Look, O look ! 

How the small 20 

Lights do fall, 

And adore 

What before 
The heavens have not shown. 
Nor their godheads known ! 25 

Such a faith, 

Such a love 

As may move 

From above 
To descend, and remain 3° 

Amongst mortals again. 



Sir George Etheridge, Love 
in a Tub, 1664. 

SONG. 

Ladies, though to your conquering eyes 

Love owes his chiefest victories, 

And borrows those bright arms from you 

With which he does the world subdue ; 

Yet you yourselves are not above 5 

The empire nor the griefs of love. 

Then rack not lovers with disdain. 

Lest love on you revenge their pain ; 

You are not free because you 're fair, 

The Boy did not his Mother spare. 10 

Beauty's but an offensive dart; 

It is no armor for the heart. 



JOHN DRYDEN. 187 

John Dryden, The Indiaji 
Queen, acted 1664. 

INCANTATION. 

You twice ten hundred deities, 

To whom we daily sacrifice; 

You powers that dwell with fate below, 

And see what men are doomed to do, 

Where elements in discord dwell ; 5 

Thou god of sleep, arise and tell 

Great Zempoalla what strange fate 

Must on her dismal vision wait ! 

By the croaking of the toad, 

In their caves that make abode ; 10 

Earthy, dun, that pants for breath. 

With her swelled sides f uU of death ; 

By the crested adders' pride. 

That along the clifts do glide; 

By thy visage fierce and black ; '5 

By the death's head on thy back; 

By the twisted serpents placed 

For a girdle round thy waist ; 

By the hearts of gold that deck 

Thy breast, thy shoulders, and thy neck : 20 

From thy sleepy mansion rise, 

And open thy unwilling eyes, 

While bubbling springs their music keep, 

That use to lull thee in thy sleep. 



188 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

John Dryden, The Indian Em- 
peror, 1665. 

SONG. 

Ah, fading joy ! how quickly art thou past ! 

Yet we thy ruin haste. 
As if the cares of human Ufe were few, 

We seek out new : 
And follow fate that does too fast pursue. 5 

See how on every bough the birds express 
In their sweet notes their happiness. 
They all enjoy and nothing spare. 

But on their mother nature lay their care: 

Why then should man, the lord of all below, 10 

Such troubles choose to know 

As none of all his subjects undergo? 

Hark, hark, the waters fall, fall, fall, 
And with a murmuring sound 
Dash, dash, upon the ground, 15 

To gentle slumbers call. 



Sir Charles Sedley, The 
Mulberry Garden, 1668. 

TO A VERY YOUNG LADY. 

Ah, Chloris ! that I now could sit 

As unconcerned, as. when 
Your infant beauty could beget 

No pleasure nor no pain. 

When I the dawn used to admire. 

And praised the coming day, 
I little thought the growing fire 

Must take my rest away. 



SIR CHARLES SEDLEY. 189 

Your charms in harmless childhood lay, 

Like metals in the mine ; lo 

Age from no face took more away, 
Than youth concealed in thine. 

But as your charms insensibly 

To their perfections pressed. 
Fond love as unperceived did fly, 15 

And in my bosom rest. 

My passion with your beauty grew. 

And Cupid at my heart, 
Still, as his mother favored you. 

Threw a new flaming dart. 20 

Each gloried in their wanton part : 

To make a lover, he 
Employed the utmost of his art ; 

To make a beauty, she. 

Though now I slowly bend to love, 25 

Uncertain of my fate. 
If your fair self my chains approve, 

I shall my freedom hate. 

Lovers, like dying men, may well 

At first disordered be ; 3° 

Since none alive can truly tell 

What fortune they might see. 

Sir Charles Sedley, Plays, 
Poems, Songs, etc., 1702; writ- 
ten between 1 668-1 687. 

SONG. 
Not, Celia, that I juster am 

Or better than the rest ; 
For I would change each hour like them, 

Were not my heart at rest. 



190 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

But I am tied to very thee 5 

By every thought I have ; 
Thy face I only care to see, 

Thy heart I only crave. 

All that in woman is adored 

In thy dear self I find ; lo 

For the whole sex can but afford 

The handsome and the kind. 

Why then should I seek further store, 

And still make love anew? 
When change itself can give no more 15 

'T is easy to be true. 

LOVE STILL HAS SOMETHING OF THE SEA. 

Love still has something of the sea, 
From whence his mother rose ; 

No time his slaves from love can free. 
Nor give their thoughts repose. 

They are becalmed in clearest days, 5 

And in rough weather tossed ; 
They wither under cold delays, 

Or are in tempests lost. 

One while they seem to touch the port, 

Then straight into the main 10 

Some angry wind in cruel sport 
The vessel drives again. 

At first Disdain and Pride they fear, 
Which, if they chance to 'scape, 

Rivals and Falsehoo'd soon appear 15 

In a more dreadful shape. 



6"//? CHARLES SEDLEY. 191 

By such degrees to joy they come, 

And are so long withstood, 
So slowly they receive the sum. 

It hardly does them good. 20 

'T is cruel to prolong a pain, 

And to defer a joy. 
Believe me, gentle Celemene, 

Offends the winged boy. 

An hundred thousand oaths your fears 25 

Perhaps would not remove. 
And if I gazed a thousand years 

I could no deeper love. 

PHYLLIS KNOTTING. 

" Hears not my Phyllis how the birds 

Their feathered mates salute .'' 
They tell their passion in their words : 
Must I alone be mute ? " 

Phyllis, without frown or smile, 5 

Sat and knotted all the while. 

" The god of love in thy bright eyes 

Does like a tyrant reign ; 
But in thy heart a child he lies 

Without his dart or flame." 10 

Phyllis, without frown or smile, 
Sat and knotted all the while. 

" So many months in silence past. 

And yet in raging love. 
Might well deserve one word at last 15 

My passion should approve." 
Phyllis, without frown or smile. 
Sat and knotted all the while. 



192 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

" Must then your faithful swain expire 

And not one look obtain, 20 

Which he to soothe his fond desire 
Might pleasingly explain ? " 
PhylHs, without frown or smile, 
Sat and knotted all the while ! 

PHYLLIS IS MY ONLY JOY, 

Phyllis is my only joy, 

Faithless as the winds or seas, 

Sometimes coming, sometimes coy, 

Yet she never fails to please ; 

If with a frown 5 

I am cast down, 
Phyllis smiling 
And beguiling 
Makes me happier than before. 

Though alas ! too late I find 10 

Nothing can her fancy fix. 
Yet the moment she is kind 
I forgive her all her tricks ; 
Which though I see, 

I can't get free. 15 

She deceiving, 
I believing. 
What need lovers wish for more.-* 

A SONG. 

Phyllis, men say that all my vows 

Are to thy fortune paid : 
Alas ! my heart he little knows 

Who thinks my love a trade. 



JOHN DRYDEN. 193 

Were I of all these woods the lord, 5 

One berry from thy hand 
More real pleasure would afford 

Than all my large command. 

My humble love has learned to live 

On what the nicest maid, 10 

Without a conscious blush, may give 

Beneath the myrtle shade. 



John Dryden, Tyrannic Love, 
1670; acted 1668-69. 

YOU PLEASING DREAMS OF LOVE. 

You pleasing dreams of love and sweet delight, 
Appear before this slumbering virgin's sight ; 
Soft visions set her free 
From mournful piety. 
Let her sad thoughts from heaven retire. 
And let the melancholy love 
Of those remoter joys above 
Give place to your more sprightly fire. 
Let purling streams be in her fancy seen. 
And flowery meads, and vales of cheerful green. 
And in the midst of deathless groves 
Soft sighing wishes lie, 
And smiling hopes fast by. 
And just beyond them ever-laughing loves. 



194 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



John Dryden, An Evening's Love, 
1671. 

YOU CHARMED ME NOT WITH THAT 
FAIR FACE. 

You charmed me not with that fair face, 

Though it was all divine : 
To be another's is the grace 

That makes me wish you mine. 
The gods and fortune take their part 5 

Who, like young monarchs, fight. 
And boldly dare invade that heart 

Which is another's right. 
First, mad with hope, we undertake 

To pull up every bar ; 10 

But, once possessed, we faintly make 

A dull defensive war. 
Now, every friend is turned a foe. 

In hope to get our store : 
And passion makes us cowards grow, 15 

Which made us brave before. 



John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, 
Poems on Several Occasions, 1680; 
date of writing uncertain. 

A SONG. 

Absent from thee I languish still. 
Then ask me not, ' when I return ? ' 

The straying fool 't will plainly kill 
To wish all day, all night to mourn. 



ROCHESTER. 195 

Dear, from thine arms then let me fly, 5 

That my fantastic mind may prove 
The torments it deserves to try, 

That tears my fixed heart from my love. 

When, wearied with a world of woe, 

To thy safe bosom I retire, - lo 

Where love, and peace, and truth does flow. 

May I, contented, there expire. 

Lest once more wandering from that heaven, 

I fall on some base heart unblest. 
Faithless to thee, false, unforgiven, 15 

And lose my everlasting rest. 

LOVE AND LIFE. 

All my past life is mine no more. 

The flying hours are gone. 
Like transitory dreams given o'er, 
Whose images are kept in store 

By memory alone. 5 

The time that is to come is not : 

How can it then be mine ? 
The present moment 's all my lot, 
And that, as fast as it is got, 

Phyllis, is only thine. 10 

Then talk not of inconstancy. 

False hearts, and broken vows. 
If I, by miracle, can be 
This live-long minute true to thee, 

'Tis all that heaven allows. 15 



196 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



UPON DRINKING IN A BOWL. 

Vulcan, contrive me such a cup 

As Nestor used of old ; 
Show all thy skill to trim it up, 

Damask it round with gold. 

Make it so large that, filled with sack 

Up to the swelling brim, 
Vast toasts on the delicious lake, 

Like ships at sea may swim. 

Engrave not battle on his cheek. 
With war I 've naught to do : 

I 'm none of those that took Maestrick, 
Nor Yarmouth leaguer knew. 

Let it no name of planets tell. 
Fixed stars or constellations ; 

For I am no Sir Sidrophel, 
Nor none of his relations. 

But carve thereon a spreading vine, 
Then add two lovely boys ; 

Their limbs in amorous folds entwine. 
The type of future joys. 

Cupid and Bacchus my saints are. 
May Drink and Love still reign ! 

With wine I wash away my care, 
And then to love again. 



ROCHESTER. 197 



CONSTANCY. 

I CANNOT change, as others do, 

Though you unjustly scorn, 
Since that poor swain that sighs for you, 

For you alone was born ; 
No, Phyllis, no, your heart to move 5 

A surer way I '11 try, 
And to revenge my slighted love. 

Will still love on, and die. 

When, killed with grief, Amyntas lies. 

And you to mind shall call lo 

The sighs that now unpitied rise. 

The tears that vainly fall : 
That welcome hour that ends his smart. 

Will then begin your pain, 
For such a faithful tender heart 15 

Can never break in vain. 

A SONG. 

My dear mistress has a heart 

Soft as those kind looks she gave me ; 
When with love's resistless art, 

And her eyes, she did enslave me. 
But her constancy 's so weak 5 

She 's so wild and apt to wander ; 
That my jealous heart would break. 

Should we live one day asunder. 

Melting joys about her move. 

Killing pleasures, wounding blisses ; 10 

She can dress her eyes in love. 

And her lips can arm with kisses. 



198 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Angels listen when she speaks, 

She 's my delight, all mankind's wonder; 

But my jealous heart would break, 15 

Should we live one day asunder. 



Thomas Flatman, Poems and 
Songs, 1674 ; date of writing 
uncertain. 

THE DEFIANCE. 

Be not too proud, imperious dame, 

Your charms are transitory things, 
May melt, while you at heaven aim, 
Like Icarus's waxen wings ; 
And you a part in his misfortune bear, 5 

Drowned in a briny ocean of despair. 

You think your beauties are above 

The poet's brain and painter's hand. 
As if upon the throne of love 

You only should the world command : 15 

Yet know, though you presume your title true, 
There are pretenders that will rival you. 

There 's an experienced rebel, Time, 

And in his squadron 's Poverty ; 
There 's Age that brings along with him 15 

A terrible artillery : 
And if against all these thou keep'st thy crown, 
Th' usurper Death will make thee lay it down. 



S/A' GEORGE ETHERIDGE. 199 



Sir George Etheridge, A Col- 
lection of Poems, 1701 ; written 
before 1675. 

TO A LADY, 

ASKING HOW LONG HE WOULD LOVE HER. 

It is not, Celia, in our power 

To say how long our love will last ; 

It may be we within this hour 

May lose those joys we now do taste : 

The blessed that immortal be, 

From change in love are only free. 

Then since we mortal lovers are, 

Ask not how long our love may last ; 

But while it does, let us take care 

Each minute be with pleasure passed : 

Were it not madness to deny 

To live because we 're sure to die? 



A SONG. 

Ye happy swains whose hearts are free 

From Love's imperial chain. 
Take warning and be taught by me 

T' avoid th' enchanting pain ; 
Fatal the wolves to trembling flocks, 

Fierce winds to blossoms prove, 
To careless seamen, hidden rocks, 

To human quiet, love. 

Fly the fair sex, if bliss you prize ; 
The snake's beneath the flower: 



200 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Whoever gazed on beauteous eyes, 
That tasted quiet more ? 

How faithless is the lovers' joy! 
How constant is their care 

The kind with falsehood to destroy, 
The cruel, with despair ! 



Aphara BehN, Abdelazer, or the 
Moor's Revenge, 1677 ; acted 
1676. 

SONG. 

Love in fantastic triumph sat. 

Whilst bleeding hearts around him flowed. 
For whom fresh pains he did create. 

And strange tyrannic power he showed ; 
From thy bright eyes he took his fires. 

Which round about in sport he hurled ; 
But 't was from mine he took desires 

Enough t' undo the amorous world. 

From me he took his sighs and tears. 

From thee his pride and cruelty ; 
From me his languishments and fears. 

And every killing dart from thee : 
Thus thou and I the god have armed, 

And set him up a deity, 
But my poor heart alone is harmed, 

Whilst thine the victor is, and free. 



JOHN DRYDEN. 201 



John Dryden, Troilus and 
Cressida, 1679. 

CAN LIFE BE A BLESSING? 

Can life be a blessing, 
Or worth the possessing, 
Can life be a blessing, if love were away ? 

Ah, no ! though our love all night keep us waking, 
And though he torment us with cares all the day, 

Yet he sweetens, he sweetens our pains in the taking; 
There 's an hour at the last, there 's an hour to repay. 

In every possessing, 
The ravishing blessing, 
In every possessing, the fruit of our pain. 
Poor lovers forget long ages of anguish, 
Whate'er they have suffered and done to obtain ; 

'T is a pleasure, a pleasure to sigh and to languish. 
When we hope, when we hope to be happy again. 



Charles Sackville, Earl of 
Dorset, A New Miscellany of 
Poems on Several Occasions, 
1 701 ; written before 1680. 

ON A LADY WHO FANCIED HERSELF A BEAUTY. 

Dorinda's sparkling wit and eyes. 

United cast too fierce a light. 
Which blazes high, but quickly dies, 

Pains not the heart, but hurts the sight. 



202 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Love is a calmer, gentler joy, 

Smooth are his looks, and soft his pace 

Her Cupid is a blackguard boy, 

That runs his link full in your face. 



The same in Works of Celebj-ated 
Atithors, 1750 ; written before 
1680. 

SONG. 

Phyllis, for shame ! let us improve 

A thousand different ways 
Those few short moments snatched by love 

From many tedious days. 

If you want courage to despise 5 

The censure of the grave, 
Though Love's a tyrant in your eyes 

Your heart is but a slave. 

My love is full of noble pride, 

Nor can it e'er submit 10 

To let that fop, Discretion, ride 

In triumph over it. 

False friends I have, as well as you, 

Who daily counsel me 
Fame and ambition to pursue, 15 

And leave off loving thee. 

But when the least regard I show 

To fools who thus advise. 
May I be dull enough to grow 

Most miserably wise ! 20 



JOHN DRYDEN. 203 



John Dryden, The Spanish 
Friar, 1 68 1 . 

FAREWELL, UNGRATEFUL TRAITOR. 

Farewell, ungrateful traitor! 

Farewell, my perjured swain ! 
Let never injured creature 

Believe a man again. 
The pleasure of possessing 5 

Surpasses all expressing, 
But 'tis too short a blessing, 

And love too long a pain. 

'T is easy to deceive us, 

In pity of your pain ; lo 

But when we love, you leave us 

To rail at you in vain. 
Before we have descried it. 
There is no bliss beside it, 
But she, that once has tried it, 15 

Will never love again. 

The passion you pretended, 

Was only to obtain; 
But when the charm is ended. 

The charmer you disdain. 20 

Your love by ours we measure. 
Till we have lost our treasure ; 
But dying is a pleasure. 

When living is a pain. 



204 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



John Dryden, The Duke of 
Guise, 1683 ; acted 1682. 

SONG. 

BETWIXT A SHEPHERD AND A SHEPHERDESS. 

Shepherdess. 

Tell me, Thyrsis, tell your anguish, 
Why you sigh, and why you languish; 
When the nymph whom you adore 
Grants the blessing 

Of possessing, 5 

What can love and I do more ? 

Shepherd. 

Think it 's love beyond all measure 
Makes me faint away with pleasure ; 
Strength of cordial may destroy, 

And the blessing 10 

Of possessing 
Kills me with excess of joy. 

Shepherdess. 

Thyrsis, how can I believe you ? 
But confess, and I '11 forgive you : 

Men are false, and so are you. 15 

Never Nature 
Framed a creature 
To enjoy, and yet be true. 



Shepherd. 

Mine's a flame beyond expiring. 
Still possessing, still desiring, 



20 



JOHN NORRIS. 205 

Fit for Love's imperial crown ; 

Ever shining 

And refining 
Still the more 't is melted down. 

Cho7-us. 

Mine's a flame beyond expiring, 25 

Still possessing, still desiring, 
Fit for Love's imperial crown ; 
Ever shining 
And refining 
Still the more 't is melted down. 3° 



John Norris, Poems aiid Dis- 
courses, 1684. 

HYMN TO DARKNESS. 

Hail, thou most sacred venerable thing! 

What Muse is worthy thee to sing .-^ 
Thee, from whose pregnant universal womb 
All things, even Light, thy rival, first did come. 
What dares he not attempt that sings of thee. 

Thou first and greatest mystery.? 
Who can the secrets of thy essence tell ? 
Thou, like the light of God, art inaccessible. 

Before great Love this monument did raise. 

This ample theatre of praise; 
Before the folding circles of the sky 
Were tuned by him who is all harmony ; 
Before the morning stars their hymn began 

Before the council held for man ; 



206 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Before the birth of either Time or Place 15 

Thou reign'st unquestioned monarch in the empty space. 

Thy native lot thou didst to Light resign, 

But still half of the globe is thine. 
Here with a quiet, and yet awful hand, 
Like the best emperors, thou dost command. 20 

To thee the stars above their brightness owe. 

And mortals their repose below. 
To thy protection Fear and Sorrow flee 
And those that weary are of light find rest in thee. 

Though light and glory be th' Almighty's throne, 25 

Darkness is his pavilion. 
From that his radiant beauty, but from thee 
He has his terror and his majesty. 
Thus when he first proclaimed his sacred law, 

And would his rebel subjects awe, 3° 

Like princes on some great solemnity, 
H' appeared in 's robes of state and clad himself with thee. 

The blest above do thy sweet umbrage prize. 

When, cloyed with light, they veil their eyes ; 
The vision of the Deity is made 35 

More sweet and beatific by thy shade. 
But we, poor tenants of this orb below 

Don't here thy excellencies know, 
Till death our understandings does improve. 
And then our wiser ghosts thy silent night-walks love. 40 

But thee I now admire, thee would I choose 

For my religion, or my Muse. 
'T is hard to tell whether thy reverend shade 
Has more good votaries or poets made, 



CHARLES COTTON. 207 

From thy dark caves were inspirations given, 45 

And from thick groves went vows to Heaven. 
Hail then, thou Muse's and devotion's spring ! 
'Tis just we should adore, 'tis just we should thee sing. 



Charles Cotton, Poems on Several 
Occasions., 16S9; written before 
1687. 

THE MORNING QUATRAINS. 

The cock has crowed an hour ago, 
'T is time we now dull sleep forgo ; 
Tired nature is by sleep redressed 
And labor 's overcome by rest. 

We have out-done the work of night ; 
'Tis time we rise t' attend the light, 
And ere he shall his beams display, 
To plot new business for the day. 

None but the slothful or unsound 
Are by the sun in feathers found, 
Nor, without rising with the sun, 
Can the world's business e'er be done. 

Hark, hark ! the watchful chanticler 
Tells us the day's bright harbinger 
Peeps o'er the eastern hills, to awe 
And warn night's sov'reign to withdraw. 

The morning curtains now are drawn. 
And now appears the blushing dawn ; 
Aurora has her roses shed, 
To strew the way Sol's steeds must tread. 



208 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

Xanthus and .^thon harnessed are 
To roll away the burning car, 
And, snorting flame, impatient bear 
The dressing of the charioteer. 

The sable cheeks of sullen Night 25 

Are streaked with rosy streams of light, 
Whilst she retires away in fear 
To shade the other hemisphere. 

The merry lark now takes her wings, 

And longed-for day's loud welcome sings, 3° 

Mounting her body out of sight. 

As if she meant to meet the light. 

Now doors and windows are unbarred, 
Each-where are cheerful voices heard, 
And round about " good-morrows " fly, 35 

As if day taught humanity. 

The chimneys now to smoke begin. 

And the old wife sits down to spin. 

Whilst Kate, taking her pail, does trip 

Mull's swoU'n and straddling paps to strip. 40 

Vulcan now makes his anvil ring, 
Dick whistles loud and Maud doth sing. 
And Silvio with his bugle horn 
Winds an imprime unto the morn. 

Now through the morning doors behold 45 

Phoebus arrayed in burning gold. 
Lashing his fiery steeds, displays 
His warm and all-enlight'ning rays. 



CHARLES COTTON. 209 

Now each one to his work repairs, 

All that have hands are laborers, 5° 

And manufactures of each trade 

By op'ning shops are open laid. 

Hob yokes his oxen to the team. 

The angler goes unto the stream. 

The woodman to the purlieus hies, 55 

The lab'ring bees to load their thighs. 

Fair Amaryllis drives her flocks, 

All night safe folded from the fox. 

To flow'ry downs, where Colin stays 

To court her with his roundelays. 6o 

The traveller now leaves his inn 
A new day's journey to begin. 
As he would post it with the day. 
And early rising makes good way. 

The slick-faced schoolboy satchel takes, 65 

And with slow pace small riddance makes; 
For why, the haste we make, you know. 
To knowledge and to virtue 's slow. 

The fore-horse jingles on the road, 

The waggoner lugs on his load, 7° 

The field with busy people snies. 

And city rings with various cries. 

The world is now a busy swarm. 

All doing good, or doing harm ; 

But let 's take heed our acts be true, 75 

For heaven's eye sees all we do. 



210 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

None can that piercing sight evade, 
It penetrates the darkest shade, 
And sin, though it should 'scape the eye, 
Would be discovered by the cry. 

RONDEAU. 

Forbear, fair Phyllis, O forbear 
Those deadly killing frowns, and spare 
A heart so loving, and so true. 
By none to be subdued, but you, 
Who my poor life's sole princess are. 
You only can create my care ; 
But offend you, I all things dare. 
Then, lest your cruelty you rue. 

Forbear ; 
And lest you kill that heart, beware, 
To which there is some pity due, 
If but because I humbly sue. 
Your anger, therefore, sweetest fair, 
Though mercy in your sex is rare, 

Forbear. 

SONG. 

Why, dearest, shouldst thou weep when I relate 

The story of my woe ? 
Let not the swarthy mists of my black fate 

O'ercast thy beauty so : 
For each rich pearl lost on that score. 
Adds to mischance, and wounds your servant more. 

Quench not those stars that to my bliss should guide 
O spare that precious tear ! 



80 



CHARLES COTTON. 211 

Nor let those drops unto a deluge tide, 

To drown your beauty there ; lo 

That cloud of sorrow makes it night, 
You lose your lustre, but the world its light. 

LES AMOURS. 

She that I pursue, still flies me ; 

Her that follows me, I fly; 
She that I still court, denies me ; 

Her that courts me, I deny : 
Thus in one web we 're subtly wove, 5 

And yet we mutiny in love. 

She that can save me, must not do it ; 

She that cannot, fain would do ; 
Her love is bound, yet I still w^oo it ; 

Hers by love is bound in woe: lo 

Yet how can I of love complain. 
Since I have love for love again ? 

This is thy work, imperious Child, 

Thine 's this labyrinth of love. 
That thus hast our desires beguiled, 15 

Nor seest how thine arrows rove. 
Then prithee, to compose this stir, 
Make her love me, or me love her. 

But, if irrevocable are 

Those keen shafts that wound us so, 20 

Let me prevail with thee thus far, 

That thou once more take thy bow ; 
Wound her hard heart, and by my troth, 
I '11 be content to take them both. 



212 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

SONG. 

Join once again, my Celia, join 
Thy rosy lips to these of mine, 

Which, though they be not such, 
Are full as sensible of bliss. 
That is, as soon can taste a kiss, 

As thine of softer touch. 

Each kiss of thine creates desire. 

Thy odorous breath inflames love's fire, 

And wakes the sleeping coal : 
Such a kiss to be I find 
The conversation of the mind, 

And whisper of the soul. 

Thanks, sweetest, now thou 'rt perfect grown. 
For by this last kiss 1 'm undone ; 

Thou breathest silent darts. 
Henceforth each little touch will prove 
A dangerous stratagem in love. 

And thou wilt blow up hearts. 

TO CELIA. 

ODE. 

When, Celia, must my old days set, 

And my young morning rise 
In beams of joy, so bright, as yet 

Ne'er blessed a lover's eyes t 
My state is more advanced than when 

I first attempted thee ; 
I sued to be a servant then, 

But now to be made free. 



CHARLES COTTON. 213 

• 
I 've served my time, faithful and true, 

Expecting to be placed lo 

In happy freedom, as my due. 

To all the joys thou hast : 
111 husbandry in love is such 

A scandal to love's power. 
We ought not to mispend so much 15 

As one poor short-lived hour. 

Yet think not, sweet, I 'm weary grown. 

That I pretend such haste, 
Since none to surfeit e'er was known 

Before he had a taste ; 20 

My infant love could humbly wait. 

When young it scarce knew how 
To plead ; but grown to man's estate 

He is impatient now. 

LAURA SLEEPING. 

Winds, whisper gently whilst she sleeps. 
And fan her with your cooling wings. 

Whilst she her drops of beauty weeps 
From pure and yet unrivalled springs. 

Glide over beauty's field, her face, ! 

To kiss her lip and cheek be bold. 
But with a calm and stealing pace. 

Neither too rude nor yet too cold. 

Play in her beams and crisp her hair 

With such a gale as wings soft love, i^ 

And with so sweet, so rich an air 

As breathes from the Arabian grove. 



214 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

A breath as hushed as lover's sigh, 
Or that unfolds the morning door ; 

Sweet as the winds that gently fly 15 

To sweep the spring's enamelled floor. 

Murmur soft music to her dreams, 

That pure and unpolluted run. 
Like to the new-born crystal streams 

Under the bright enamoured sun. 20 

But when she waking shall display 

Her light, retire within your bar. 
Her breath is life, her eyes are day, 

And all mankind her creatures are. 



Aphara Behn, 77^!^ Lover's 
Watch, 1686. 

THE CHARM FOR CONSTANCY. 

Iris, to keep my soul entire and true. 
It thinks each moment of the day on you ; 
And when a charming face I see 

That does all other eyes incline. 
It has no influence on me : 

I think it e'en deformed to thine. 
My eyes, my soul, and sense regardless move 
To all but the dear object of my love. 



APHARA BEHN. 215 



Aphara Behn, The Lucky 
Chance, 16S7. 

O LOVE THAT STRONGER ART THAN WINE. 

O LOVE ! that stronger art than wine, 

Pleasing delusion, witchery divine, 

Wont to be prized above all wealth. 

Disease that has more joys than health : 

Though we blaspheme thee in our pain, 5 

And of thy tyranny complain, 

We all are bettered by thy reign. 

What reason never can bestow 

We to this useful passion owe: 

Love wakes the dull from sluggish ease, 10 

And learns a clown the art to please, 

Humbles the vain, kindles the cold. 

Makes misers free, and cowards bold ; 

'T is he reforms the sot from drink, 

And teaches airy fops to think. 15 

When full brute appetite is fed. 

And choked the glutton lies and dead, 

Thou new spirits dost dispense 

And finest the gross delights of sense : 

Virtue's unconquerable aid 20 

That against Nature can persuade. 

And makes a roving mind retire 

Within the bounds of just desire ; 

Cheerer of age, youth's kind unrest, 

And half the heaven of the blest ! 25 



216 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



Edmund Waller, The Second 
Part of Mr. Waller''s Poems, 
1690 ; written after 1686. 

OF THE LAST VERSES IN THE BOOK. 

When we for age could neither read nor write, 

The subject made us able to indite; 

The soul, with nobler resolutions decked, 

The body stooping, does herself erect. 

No mortal parts are requisite to raise 5 

Her that, unbodied, can her Maker praise. 

The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; 

So, calm are we when passions are no more ! 

For then we know how vain it was to boast 

Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. 10 

Clouds of affection from our younger eyes 

Conceal that emptiness which age descries. 

The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed. 

Lets in new light through chinks that time has made; 

Stronger by weakness, wiser men become, 15 

As they draw near to their eternal home. 

Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view. 

That stand upon the threshold of the new. 



John Dryden, Poems on 
Various Occasions, 1701. 

A SONG. 

FOR SAINT Cecilia's day, 1687. 

From harmony, from heavenly harmony. 
This universal frame began : 
When nature underneath a heap 



JOHN DRY DEN. 217 

Of jarring atoms lay, 
And could not heave her head, 5 

The tuneful voice was heard from high, 

'Arise, ye more than dead.' 
Then cold, and hot and moist, and dry, 
In order to their stations leap. 

And Music's power obey. lo 

From harmony, from heavenly harmony, 
This universal frame began : 
From harmony to harmony 
Through all the compass of the notes it ran, 

The diapason closing full in man. 15 

What passion cannot music raise and quell .^ 
When Jubal struck the chorded shell. 
His listening brethren stood around, 
And, wondering, on their faces fell 
To worship that celestial sound. 20 

Less than a god they thought there could not dwell 
Within the hollow of that shell 
That spoke so sweetly and so well. 
What passion cannot music raise and quell? 

The trumpet's loud clangor 25 

Excites us to arms. 
With shrill notes of anger 
And mortal alarms. 
The double, double, double beat 

Of the thundering drum, 30 

Cries, hark ! the foes come : 
Charge, charge ! 't is too late to retreat. 

The soft complaining flute 
In dying notes discovers 



218 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

The woes of hopeless lovers, 35 

Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling lute. 

Sharp violins proclaim 
Their jealous pangs and desperation, 
Fury, frantic indignation. 

Depths of pains and height of passion 4° 

For the fair, disdainful dame. 

But, O ! what art can teach. 

What human voice can reach 
The sacred organ's praise ? 

Notes inspiring holy love, 45 

Notes that wing their heavenly ways 

To mend the choirs above. 

Orpheus could lead the savage race, 
And trees unrooted left their place 

Sequacious to the lyre : 5° 

But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher; 
When to her organ vocal breath was given, 
An angel heard, and straight appeared 

Mistaking earth for heaven. 

Grand Chorus. 
As from the power of sacred lays 55 

The spheres began to move, 
And sung the great Creator's praise 

To all the bless'd above; 
So when the last and dreadful hour 
This crumbling pageant shall devour, 6o 

The trumpet shall be heard on high, 
The dead shall live, the living die. 
And Music shall untune the sky. 



JOHN DRYDEN. 219 



John Dryden, King Arthur^ 
1691. 

FAIREST ISLE, ALL ISLES EXCELLING. 

Fairest isle, all isles excelling, 
Seat of pleasures and of loves ; 

Venus here will choose her dwelling. 
And forsake her Cyprian groves. 

Cupid from his favorite nation 

Care and envy will remove ; 
Jealousy, that poisons passion, 

And despair, that dies for love. 

Gentle murmurs, sweet complaining. 
Sighs that blow the fire of love ; 

Soft repulses, kind disdaining, 
Shall be all the pains you prove. 

Every swain shall pay his duty. 
Grateful every nymph shall prove ; 

And as these excel in beauty. 

Those shall be renowned for love. 



John Dryden, Cleomenes, 1692. 

NO, NO, POOR SUFFERING HEART. 

No, no, poor suffering heart, no change endeavor ; 
Choose to sustain the smart, rather than leave her. 
My ravished eyes behold such charms about her, 
I can die with her, but not live without her ; 
One tender sigh of hers to see me languish. 
Will more than pay the price of my past anguish. 



220 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS, 

Beware, O cruel fair, how you smile on me, 

'T was a kind look of yours that has undone me. 

Love has in store for me one happy minute, 

And she will end my pain who did begin it ; lo 

Then no day void of bliss or pleasure leaving, 

Ages shall slide away without perceiving : 

Cupid shall guard the door, the more to please us, 

And keep out Time and Death, when they would seize us: 

Time and Death shall depart, and say, in flying, 15 

Love has found out a way to live by dying. 



John Dryden, Third Miscellany, 
1693. 

A SONG. 

TO A FAIR YOUNG LADY GOING OUT OF TOWN IN 
SPRING. 

Ask not the cause why sullen spring 
So long delays her flowers to bear ; 

Why warbling birds forget to sing, 
And winter storms invert the year : 

Chloris is gone, and Fate provides 

To make it spring where she resides. 

Chloris is gone, the cruel fair ; 

She cast not back a pitying eye, 
But left her lover in despair. 

To sigh, to languish, and to die. 
Ah, how can those fair eyes endure. 
To give the wounds they will not cure ? 

Great god of love, why hast thou made 
A face that can all hearts command, 



MATTHEW PRIOR. 11\ 

That all religions can invade, 15 

And change the laws of every land? 
Where thou hadst placed such power before, 
Thou shouldst have made her mercy more. 

When Chloris to the temple comes. 

Adoring crowds before her fall ; 20 

She can restore the dead from tombs, 

And every life but mine recall. 
I only am by love designed 
To be the victim for mankind. 



Matthew Prior, Poems on Sev- 
eral Occasions, 1709; written 
about 1693. 

A SONG. 

In vain you tell your parting lover 
You wish fair winds may waft him over. 
Alas ! what winds can happy prove 
That bear me far from what I love ? 
Alas ! what dangers on the main 
Can equal those that I sustain 
From slighted vows and cold disdain .? 

Be gentle, and in pity choose 

To wish the wildest tempests loose ; 

That, thrown again upon the coast 

Where first my shipwrecked heart was lost, 

I may once more repeat my pain, 

Once more in dying notes complain 

Of slighted vows and cold disdain. 



222 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



John Dryden, Love Trium- 
phant, 1693-94. 

SONG OF JEALOUSY. 

What state of life can be so blest 

As love, that warms a lover's breast ? 

Two souls in one, the same desire 

To grant the bliss, and to require. 

But if in heaven a hell we find, 5 

'T is all from thee, 

O Jealousy ! 

'T is all from thee, 

O Jealousy ! 
Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy, 10 

Thou tyrant of the mind. 

All other ills, though sharp they prove, 

Serve to refine and perfect love : 

In absence, or unkind disdain, 

Sweet hope relieves the lover's pain. 15 

But, ah ! no cure but death we find, 

To set us free 

From Jealousy : 

O Jealousy ! 
Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy, 20 

Thou tyrant of the mind. 

False in thy glass all objects are. 
Some set too near, and some too far; 
Thou art the fire of endless night, 
The fire that burns, and gives no light. 25 

All torments of the damned we find 
In only thee, 



MATTHEW PRIOR. 223 

O Jealousy ! 
Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy, 
Thou tyrant of the mind. 3° 



Matthew Prior, Poems on Sev- 
eral Occasions, 1709; written 
about 1695-96. 

AN ODE. 

The merchant, to secure his treasure, 

Conveys it in a borrowed name : 
Euphelia serves to grace my measure, 

But Chloe is my real flame. 

My softest verse, my darling lyre 5 

Upon Euphelia's toilet lay. 
When Chloe noted her desire 

That I should sing, that I should play. 

My lyre I tune, my voice I raise ; 

But with my numbers mix my sighs ; 10 

And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise, 

I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes. 

Fair Chloe blushed, Euphelia frowned, 

I sung and gazed, I played and trembled : 

And Venus to the Loves around 15 

Remarked how ill we all dissembled. 



TO CHLOE WEEPING. 

See, whilst thou weep'st, fair Chloe, see 
The world in sympathy with thee ! 



224 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 

The cheerful birds no longer sing, 
Each droops his head, and hangs his wing ; 
The clouds have bent their bosom lower, 
And shed their sorrows in a shower ; 
The brooks beyond their limits flow. 
And louder murmurs speak their woe. 
The nymphs and swains adopt thy cares. 
They heave thy sighs and weep thy tears. 
Fantastic nymph, that grief should move 
Thy heart obdurate against love ! 
Strange tears, whose power can soften all 
But that dear breast on which they fall ! 



A SONG. 

If wine and music have the power 

To ease the sickness of the soul. 
Let Phoebus every string explore, 

And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl. 
Let them their friendly aid employ 5 

To make my Chloe's absence light. 
And seek for pleasure to destroy 

The sorrows of this live-long night. 

But she to-morrow will return. 

Venus be thou to-morrow great, 10 

Thy myrtles strew, thy odors burn. 

And meet thy favorite nymph in state. 
Kind goddess, to no other powers 

Let us to-morrow's blessings own ; 
Thy darling loves shall guide the hours, 15 

And all the day be thine alone. 



GEORGE GRANVILLE. 225 

George Granville, Lord Lans- 
DOWNE, A Collection of Poems, 
1701 ; written before 1689. 

SONG. 

The happiest mortals once were we, 

I loved Myra, Myra me ; 

Each desirous of the blessing, 

Nothing wanting but possessing ; 

I loved Myra, Myra me : 5 

The happiest mortals once were we. 

But since cruel fates dissever, 
Torn from love, and torn forever, 

Tortures end me, 

Death befriend me ! *° 

Of all pain, the greatest pain 
Is to love, and love in vain. 



William Congreve, Works, i^iO', 
written before 1700. 

SONG. 

See, see, she wakes, Sabina wakes ! 

And now the sun begins to rise ; 
Less glorious is the morn that breaks 

From his bright beams, than her fair eyes. 

With light united, day they give, 
But different fates ere night fulfil ; 

How many by his warmth will live ! 
How many will her coldness kill ! 



226 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS. 



AMORET. 

Fair Amoret is gone astray : 

Pursue and seek her, every lover ! 
I '11 tell the signs by which you may 

The wandering shepherdess discover. 

Coquet and coy at once her air, 5 

Both studied, though both seem neglected ; 

Careless she is, with artful care, 
Affecting to seem unaffected. 

With skill her eyes dart every glance. 

Yet change so soon you 'd ne'er suspect them ; lo 
For she 'd persuade they wound by chance, 

Though certain aim and art direct them. 

She likes herself, yet others hates 

For that which in herself she prizes ; 
And while she laughs at them, forgets 15 

She is the thing that she despises. 



John Dryden, The Secular Masque, 
1700. 

HUNTING SONG. 

Diana. 

With horns and hounds, I waken the day, 
And hie to the woodland walks away ; 
I tuck up my robe, and am buskined soon, 
And tie to my forehead a wexing moon ; 



JOHN DRYDEN 227 

I course the fleet stag, and unkennel the fox, 5 

And chase the wild goats o'er the summits of rocks ; 
With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky, 
And Echo turns hunter and doubles the cry. 

Chorus. 
With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky, 
And Echo turns hunter and doubles the cry. lo 



NOTES 



1. Pan's Anniversary. The title of this masque, as printed in the 
folio of 1631-1641, bears : " As it was presented at Court before King 
James, 1625." James died in March of that year, and as this masque 
is more appropriate to summer, Nichols has assigned it to the summer 
of 1624, Mr. Fleay to June 19, 1623. This was one of the masques 
in which Inigo Jones, the famous architect, assisted Jonson. As to 
Jonson, see the editor's Elizabethan Lyrics, Athenaeum Press Series, 
pp. xxxi, Ixvi, and 259. 

1. The Shepherds' Holiday. In the original the three stanzas are 
assigned to successive " nymphs," young women of marriageable age. 

1 1. Rites Are due. Note the omission of the relative. See 
Abbott's Shakespeare Gratntnar, § 244, and cf. below, pp. 4 3, 9 2, IS 5, 
94 9, 107 4. 

1 9. Primrose-drop. Appropriately so called from the appearance 
of the blossoms as placed on separate peduncles. 

1 10. Day's-eyes and the lips of cows. Daisies and cowslips. 

1 11. Garden-star. Probably the flower popularly known as the 
star-of-Bethlehem. 

2. Hymn, To Pan. Here, too, the stanzas in the original are 
assigned to successive nymphs, the refrain being in chorus. 

2 3. Can. Knows, is able to perform. Cf. 99 20. 

2 7. Hermes would appropriately lead the dance, from the lightness 
of his winged feet. 

2 18. Rebound. Echo back, resound, a not uncommon meaning. 
Cf . Child, Ballads, ed. 187 1, III, 340, and, especially, The Spanish Tragedy, 
i. I. 30: 

Both raising dreadful clamors to the sky, 
That valleys, hills and rivers made rebound. 

2. Thomas Dekker. See Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 232. 

2. The Sun's Darling is described as "a moral masque," and is 
the work of Dekker and Ford. These two vigorous songs are assur- 
edly Dekker's. 

229 



230 NOTES. 

2. Country Glee. The title is Mr. Bullen's. 

2 7. Bravely. Finely, beautifully. 

3 16. Princes' courts. Mr. Bullen, on I know not what authority, 
reads a prince's courts. The ed. of Ford, 1840, and the reprint of 
Dekker read as in the text. 

3 20. Echo's holloa. Ed. 1870 reads echo's hollow. 
3 27. Spring up . . . the partridges. Start, raise. 

3 35. Sousing. Swooping down, a term in falconry. 

4. Cast away Care. This lively drinking song is put into the 
mouth of the character Folly. 

4 6. Play it off. A term in the old jargon of boon-companionship. 
Cf. I He7iry IV, ii. 4. 18. 

4 9. Cf. Falstaff's praise of sack, 2 Henry IV, iv. 3. 92. 

4. Christ Church MS. This poem was first printed by Mr. Bullen 
in his More Lyrics from Elizabethan Song Books, 1888, p. 125. 

4 6. Years Are yet untold. Note the omission of the relative and 
cf. 1 2. 

5. Thomas May, the historian of the Long Parliament, wrote 
several plays in his youth. Mr. Fleay places the composition of The 
Old Couple before The Heir, which was acted in 1620. The poem in 
the text appears also in Porter's Madrigals and Airs, 1632. 

5. Love's Prime. Mr. Bullen {More Lyrics, p. 153) doubts whether 
May wrote this song. The title is that given in Wifs Recreations, ed. 
1641 (not 1640, if I read the Preface to Park's reprint of that inter- 
esting work, p. ix, aright). This poem was also printed in John Cot- 
grave's Wifs Interpreter, 1655, and in Stafford Smith's Musica Antiqua, 
of about the same date. Both of these versions exhibit several variant 
readings of minor importance. 

5 5. Flaming beams. This is the reading of Wifs Recreations ; 
Bullen reads inflanting beams, etc. 

5 9. Still young. Ever young. Cf. 33 12. 

5 9 10. These lines are omitted in the version of Wifs Recreations. 

5. Edmund Waller, in the Biographica Britannica, ed. 1766, start- 
lingly described as " the most celebrated lyric poet that England ever 
produced," has of late been almost as perversely dignified by Mr. 
Gosse (in his From Shakespeare to Pope) as the absolute founder of the 
classic school of poetry. I would commend a consideration of this 
little lyric of Waller's (which his first editor, Fenton, assigns to the 
year 1627, and which is wholly in the old, free manner) to those who 
believe that Waller's " earliest verses . . . possess the formal character, 
the precise prosody without irregularity or overflow, which we find in 



NOTES. 231 

the ordinary verse of Dryden, Pope or Darwin " {Eighteenth Century 
Lite7aticre, p. 3). 

5 1. Stay, Phoebus, stay! Cotton begins a poem with the same 
words {Poet?is, ed. 16S9, p. 339). 

5 6. De Mornay. Probably one of Queen Henrietta's attendants, 
who upon the misbehavior of Monseigneur Saint George and the 
Bishop of Mende quitted England (Fenton). 

6 7. Well does this prove. The same excellent commentator 
remarks : " The latter stanza of these verses . . . alludes to the 
Copernican system, in which the earth is supposed to be a planet, and 
to move on its own axis around the sun, the center of the universe. 
Dr. Donne and Mr. Cowley industriously affected to entertain the fair 
sex with such philosophical allusions, which in his riper age Mr. Waller 
as industriously avoided." Cf. with this stanza Wordsworth's Poemt, 
ed. Dowden, p. 54 : 

No motion has she now, no force ; 

She neither hears nor sees ; 
Rolled round in earth's diurnal course 

With rocks, and stones, and trees. 

Or more poetically Tennyson's beautiful lines beginning {Poems, ed. 
1830, p. Z77) • 

Move eastward, happy earth, and leave 
Yon orange sunset. 

6. Love's Hue and Cry. This poem appears in several places, — 
first in Shirley's IVi'tty Fair One, published in 1633, in the Poems of 
Carew, 1640, and in Shirley's octavo volume of 1646. The versions 
differ considerably. I have preferred the first — that of the play — 
which seems to me, barring the conclusion, the simplest and the best. 
The title is that of Shirley's octavo, in which the poem is thus con- 
cluded : 

That, that is she ; O straight surprise 

And bring her unto Love's assize ; 

But lose no time, for fear that she 

Ruin all. mankind, like me. 

Fate and philosophy control, 

And leave the world without a soul. 

The question of authorship is not easily decided and is rendered 
the more difficult as this is not the only poem in which there is a con- 
fusion of authorship between Shirley and Carew. Shirley edited his 



232 NOTES. 

poems in 1646 with greater care than was usual in his age. In a Post- 
script to the Reader he says in excuse for setting forth his volume : 
" When I observed most of these copies [of his verses] corrupted in 
their transcripts, and the rest fleeting from me, which were by some 
indiscreet collector, not acquainted with distributive justice, mingled 
with other men's (some eminent) conceptions in print, I thought myself 
concerned to use some vindication " ( Works of Shirley, ed. Gifford 
and Dyce, VI, 461). On the other hand, there is every reason to believe 
that the poetry of Carew was not only printed but prepared for the 
press after the poet's death. Dyce in his notes on Shirley's poems 
does not venture an opinion ; Hazlitt claims the poem for the poet he 
happens to be editing ; includes a well-known poem of Drayton's, from 
its similar title, in his collection, claiming it also for Carew ; says that 
Dyce did not know of the insertion of the Hue and Cry in the works of 
Carew; and, happening upon Dyce's notes before his ovm ed. of Carew 
appeared, concludes by retracting his own words in his Index of Names. 
(See Hazlitt's Carew, pp. 128, and 244 under Shirley.) Such external 
evidence as we have at hand, then, would assign the authorship of 
this poem, together with the two others mentioned below% to Shirley 
rather than to Carew. When we consider the style of the poems, this 
view is substantiated. Love''s Hne and Cry is an imitation, though not 
a slavish one, of Drayton's Crier (see Elizabethan Lyrics,"^. 195), whilst 
To his Mistress Confined is decidedly Donnian, and the Song, " Would 
you know what is soft ? " a variation on the third stanza of Jonson's 
Triumph ofCharis. Now such imitations, adaptations, or reminiscences 
of the literature of the past are characteristics of the dramatic work 
of Shirley, characteristics, by the way, which take less from his praise 
than might be supposed. (See Ward's estimate. History of the English 
Drama, first edition, II, 334.) Reminiscence is emphatically not a trait 
of the undoubted poetry of Carew, whose delicately wrought and finely 
polished lyrics elude the paternity of both Jonson and Donne, and 
sparkle with an originality their own. 

6 12. As. That. Cf. 7 8. 

6 16. Weed. Garment. This is the reading of the original ed. 
Gifford reads red. 

6 17. As. As if. But see Shakespeare Grammar, % 107. 

7. John Ford, the famous dramatist, tried his hand at other forms 
of literature, even moral treatises. Of his life little is known save that 
he was matriculated at Oxford and was later admitted a member of the 
Middle Temple. He does not seem to have depended upon the stage 
for a livelihood, and most of his work is characterized by elaborated 



NOTES. 233 

care in conception and in diction. Ford retained not a little of the 
great lyrical touch of the previous age. 

7. The Lover's Melancholy was the first play that Ford printed, 
although many preceded it on the stage. 

7 8. As. That. Cf. 6 12. 

7. The Broken Heart. There is no account of the first appearance 
of this famous play. 

7 2. Hours. Dissyllabic, as generally. 

7 4. Envying. Accent on the penult. Cf. Campion's ^^;/^, " Silly 
boy 'tis full moon yet," Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 187 : 

He that holds his sweetheart true unto his day of dying, 
Lives, of all that ever breathed, most worthy the envying. 

8 7. So graced, not, etc. So graced as not, etc. See Shakespeare 
Gra?nmar, § 281, and cf. Merchant of Venice, iii. 3. 9. 

9. Thomas Goffe was a clergyman, who, in his youth, wrote several 
plays, some of them performed by the students of his own college, 
Christ Church, Oxford. The Careless Shepherdess was acted before the 
king and queen, apparently after Goffe's death. This may possibly not 
be Goffe's own. 

9 1. Impale. Encircle^ surround. Cf. j Henry VI, iii. 2. 171. 
9 2. Flowers the time allows. Cf. 1 2, 4 3. 

9. Hesperides. The title of Herrick's collected poetry. The chro- 
nology of Herrick is attended with peculiar difficulties, as there is little 
attempt at order or arrangement in either of the divisions of his work 
that he has left us. He began to write in the twenties, perhaps earlier; 
and we have nothing certainly his after 1649. Some of his poems, 
many of his epigrams — more it is likely than appear in his accredited 
work — strayed into publications like Wit's Recreatioiis (a hodge-podge 
of everything the bookseller could lay his hands on), whether before 
publication elsewhere or not, it is often not easy to determine. In the 
arrangement of Herrick's poems in this volume I have followed Pro- 
fessor Hale. See his Dissertation, Die Chronologische Anordniing der 
Dichtungen Robert Herricks, Halle, 1892. 

10. Corinna 's Going A-Maying. Mr. Palgra^ve says of this poem : 
" A lyric more faultless and sweet than this cannot be found in any lit- 
erature. Keeping with profound instinctive art within the limits of the 
key chosen, Herrick has reached a perfection very rare at any period of 
literature in the tones of playfulness, natural description, passion, and 
seriousness which introduce and follow each other, like the motives in 



234 NOTES. 

a sonata by Weber or Beethoven, throughout this little masterpiece of 
music without notes" (Ed. Herrkk, Golden Treasury^ p. 190). 

10 2. God unshorn. Apollo. 

10 4. Fresh-quilted colors. Here referable to the bright and varie- 
gated colors of sunrise. Cf. Milton's tissued clouds, Ode on the Morning 
of Christ 's Nativity, v. 1 46. 

10 5. Slug-a-bed. Cf. Romeo and Juliet, iv. 5. 2. 

11 25. Titan. The sun. 
11 28. Beads. Prayers. 

11 33. Each porch, etc. It is an ancient custom, still observed in 
Devonshire and Cornwall, to deck the porches of houses with boughs 
of sycamore and hawthorn on May-day (Grosart). 

11 40. Proclamation made for May. Probably some local cere- 
monial preceding the May revels, for an account of which latter see 
Brand's Popular Antiquities, ed. 18 13, I, 179. 

11 45. Deal of youth. A goodly number of youth. 

12 57. Come, let us go. Nott refers to Catullus, Carmen v, for a 
parallel to this passage. 

12. To Julia. A larger number of Herrick's verses are addressed 
to Julia than to any other of his " many dainty mistresses." 

12 3. And the elves also. Cf. Herrick's fairy poetry, ed. Hale, 
Athenaeum Press Series, pp. 38-48. 

12 7. Slow-worm. A harmless species of lizard, but popularly 
supposed to be very venomous ; also called a blind worm. 

12 11. Cumber. Trouble, perplex. 

13. A Hymn to Love. This poem occurs in Wit''s Recreations, from 
its position probably in an early ed., that of 1641 or 1645. 

13 3. Likes me. This impersonal use of like was very common. 

13 8. Blubb'ring. Weeping. Not formerly a vulgar or ludicrous 
word. Cf. Prior's The Better Answer : 

Dear Chloe, how blubbered is that pretty face. 

14. London's Tempe, or The Field of Happiness was composed 
for the Mayor's festival of 1629, while Dekker was city poet. 

14 1. Hammer, from your sound, etc. In allusion to the Jewish 
legend of later times which associates Tubal-cain, " a furbisher of every 
cutting instrument of copper and iron," with his father Lamech's 
song. 

15 10. Dragons of the moon. Cf. " Night's swift dragons," Mid- 
summer Night's Dream, iii, 2. 379, and // Penseroso, v. 59. 



NOTES. 235 

15 15. Lemnian hammers. The island of Lemnos was sacred to 
Hephaestus as the place on which he fell when hurled from Heaven. 

15 27. Sparrowbills. Sparable, a headless nail used in soling shoes. 
The form sparable occurs in Herrick's Upoti Cob., ed. Hazlitt, I, 242. 

15 30. Venus' . . . brawls and bans. Bans, curses. As to Venus' 
brawls with her husband, Vulcan, see Valerius Flaccus, Argonautica, 
II, 98, 175, 312, et passim. 

16. The New Inn was so complete a failure that it was not even 
heard to a conclusion. Two years later Jonson, who did not include it 
in the folio then printing, put it forth with this title : The New Inn : or 
the Light Heart, a Comedy. As it was never acted, but most negligently 
played by sofne, the King's servants ; and more sqtceamishly beheld and 
censured by others, the King's subjects. . . . Now at last set at liberty to the 
readers, his Majesty's servants and subjects, to be judged of. The most 
interesting outcome of the failure of this play and the consequent 
attacks on its author was Jonson's vigorous Ode, To Himself, beginning : 
" Come leave the loathed stage," and the answers which it inspired 
among such " sons of Ben " as Randolph, Carew, and others. See 
Cunningham's y(?«j^;z, V, p. 415 f. 

16. Dr. John Wilson's Cheerful Airs was not published until 1660, 
but the spirit of the poetry is almost wholly Elizabethan and Jacobean, 
a spirit which continued into the earlier part of the reign of Charles. 

17 28. That goes into the clear. Probably clear equals the light, 
blaze of the furnace or refiner's fire. 

18 5. Witty. Wise. Cf. 35 17. 

18 5. Words her sweet tongue. Cf. 1 2, 4 3, 9 2. 
18 5. So wove, four eyes in one. Cf. Donne's The Ecstacy, ed. 
1650, p. 42 : 

Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread 
Our eyes upon one double string. 

19. Egerton MS., 2013. This MS. contains songs, the music of 
which was written by Dr. John Wilson (i 594-1673); and by John Hil- 
ton, who died in 1657. Save for some small matters of punctuation, I 
follow the text of Arber's English Garner, III, 395-397. 

20. Upon a Maid. This epitaph is found in Wifs Recreatiojis, ed. 
Park, p. 245. From its position before several of the epitaphs on 
Hobson, the Cambridge carrier, by Milton and several lesser poets in 
1630, I have no hesitation in placing it early. 

20 1. In bed of spice. Cf. The Dirge of fephtha's Daughter, Her- 
rick, ed. Hale, 147 61. 



236 NOTES. 

20. On Time. The words " To be set on a clock-case " are found 
following this title in Milton's MS. in his own hand (Warton). 

20 2. Leaden-stepping. Cf. Carew's A Pastoral Dialogue, where 
the hours are said to "move with leaden feet." Reprint 1S24, p. 56 
(Dyce). 

20 12. Individual. Inseparable. Cf. Paradise Lost, iv. 486 : " An 
individual solace dear"; and also ibid. v. 610 (Warton). 

21 18. Happy-making sight. The plain English of beatific visiojt 
(Newton). 

21. Song on May Morning. This little lyric is usually assigned to 
May I, 1630. 

21 3. Flowery May, etc. Cf. the Faery Qzieejt, Of Mutability, 
vii. 34 : 

Then came fair May, the fairest maid on ground, 
Decked all with dainties of her season's pride, 
And throwing flowers out of her lap around. 

21. An Epitaph. These commendatory verses were prefixed to 
the second folio of Shakespeare. " Milton's couplets, however," as the 
late Mr. Mark Pattison remarks, " differ from these pieces [others, pre- 
fixed] in not having been written to order, but being the spontaneous 
outcome of his own admiration for Shakespeare " [Alilton ^s Sonnets, 
p. 78). 

21 1. Need. The Shakespeare folio reads neede. See Shakespeare 
Grammar, § 297, and cf. Much Ado, i. i. 318 : 

What need the bridge much broader than the flood ? 

21 4. Star-ypointing. The prefix j answers to the Old English ^^ 
and " is etymologically equivalent to Latin con, czim. It is usually pre- 
fixed to past participles, but also to past tenses, present tenses, 
adjectives and adverbs " (Skeat, Etymological Dictionary, s.v). 

22 10. Heart. The folio reads part. 

22 11. Unvalued, invaluable. Cf. 7inexpressive, inexpressible, Ode 
on the Nativity , 116, Lycidas, 176, and Shelley's ^r^/Z/z/j-^ .• over heaps 
of unvalued (i.e., valueless) stones. I am indebted for this and many 
other notes and parallels to Pattison's excellent edition of Milton's 
Sonnets. 

11 15. And, so sepulchred, etc. Pattison refers this ' conceit ' to 
the funeral oration of Pericles, Thucydides, ii. 43 ; and calls attention 
to Pope's imitation of it in his Epitaph on Gay. Sepulchred is the 
usual accent in Shakespeare ; cf. Richard II, i. 3. 195. 



NOTES. 237 

22 16. That kings, etc. Cf. Donne's Letters, ed. 1651, p. 244 : " No 
prince would be loth to die that were assured of so fair a tomb to pre- 
serve his memory." 

22. To the Nightingale. This title is not found in either the 
edition of 1645 ^^ that of 1673. " In this sonnet and the Shakespeare 
epitaph," says Pattison, " Milton had not yet shaken himself free from 
the trick of contriving concetti, as was the fashion of the previous age, 
and especially of his models, the Italians. After these two juvenile 
pieces his sense of reaUty asserted itself, and he never again, in the 
sonnets, lapses into frigid and far-fetched ingenuities " {Milton 's 
Sonnets, p. 84). 

22 4. Jolly. Festive or almost in the sense of the French Joli, 
pleasing, pretty. Cf. The Faery Queen, Of Mutability, vii. 29 : " Then 
came the jolly summer," and ibid. 35, where the same adjectiveis applied 
to June. Cf. Milton's poem In Adventicm Veris, 25, 26, and Gray's 
Ode to Spring. 

11 5. Close the eye of day. Cf. Comus, 978, and Crashaw, To the 
Morning, Q^. Trumbull, p. 113 (Todd). 

22 6. First heard, etc. Cf. The Oickoo and the Nightingale, 51-56 : 

But as I lay this other night waking, 
I thought how lovers had a tokening, 
And among hem it was a commune tale 
That it would good to hear the nightingale 
Rather than the leud cuckoo sing. 

Pattison calls this whole sonnet " only an amplification of this 
stanza." 

22 9. Rude bird of hate. The cuckoo, from its habit of leaving 
its eggs in the nests of other birds and deserting its offspring, became 
in all literatures the type of the enemy of love. Cf. Brand's Popular 
Antiquities, ed. 1813, II, 114. 

22 13. His mate. His agreeing with Love in gender. 

23 1. How soon hath Time. This sonnet has every appearance of 
having been written on Milton's twenty-third birthday, Dec. 9, 1631, 
although the heading of the text is not found in either of the editions 
printed during the poet's lifetime. The sonnet appears to have been 
prompted by a friend's expostulation that Milton do something better 
than study. See Masson's Milton, I, 289, where this letter is quoted 
entire. 

23 1. The subtle thief of youth. Cf. Pope's Sat. VI, 76. 



238 NOTES. 

23 2. Stolen on his wing. Cf. Pope's Transl. of MartiaV s Epigram 
on Aiitonius Primus, X, 23: 

While Time with still career 
Wafts on his gentle wing his eightieth year. 

23 5. My semblance. In allusion to his youthful face and figure. 
It is said that when forty Milton was taken for thirty. 

23 8. Endu'th. Endoweth. 

23 9, It. I.e., inward ripeness, v. 7. 

23 10. It shall be still in strictest measure even. " Nothing in 
Milton's life is more noteworthy than his deliberate intention to be a 
great poet, and the preparation he made with that intention from the 
earliest period. Here we have a solemn record of self-dedication, with- 
out specification of the nature of the performance " (Pattison, Milton 's 
Sonnets, p. 98). 

23 10 11. Even to. Conformable with. 

23 14. Taskmaster's eye. An allusion to the parable of the 
laborers in the vineyard, Matthew XX. 

23. Philip Massinger was sometime page in the household of the 
Earl of Pembroke. The limits and extent of his dramatic labors are 
difficult to define, owing to his habit of collaboration. A close friend- 
ship existed between him and Fletcher. He is said to have become a 
convert to Roman Catholicism in middle life. This play is one of the 
fifteen in which Massinger is supposed to have been unaided by others. 

23. Death Invoked. This is Mr. Bullen's title. The song is sung, 
in the play, by the empress Eudocia. 

24. Richard Brome was in early life a servant and later a protege 
of Ben Jonson. The Northern Lass was his most successful play. 

24 4. Mickle. This form, later confined chiefly to the north, was 
not uncommon in Elizabethan English. 

25. Richard Brathwaite was a voluminous author in his day, his 
works ranging through the usual popular and trivial subjects of the 
pamphleteer in verse and prose. He appears to have written for 
pleasure, as he was a man of substantial wealth and position. His 
best-known work is his Barnabae Itinerarium or Barnabee^s Journal, 
an account of a journey in English and Latin doggerel verses of con- 
siderable spirit. The Efiglish Gentleman and The English Gentle- 
womaji are made up of " sundry excellent rules and exquisite 
observations, tending to direction of every gentleman of selecter rank 
and quality, how to demean, or accommodate himself in the manage- 
ment of public and private affairs." 



NOTES. 239 

25. Celestina, or the tragi-comedy of Calisto and Melibea, a 

dramatic romance in dialogue, is regarded by historians of Spanish 
literature as the source of their national drama. The work was com- 
pleted about the year 1492, by Fernando de Rojas, by the addition of 
twenty acts to the first, which was ascribed to Rodrigo Cota. James 
Mabbe, who translated his own name into Don Diego Puer-de-ser on 
the title, was the first to translate the story into English, although the 
plot had been more than once previously employed in the drama. 
Though no more than translations, the first from the thirteenth act, 
the second from the nineteenth, these two little lyrics have a grace of 
manner and a poetical spirit which I think justifies their reappearance 
here. The former reads thus in the original {La Celestina, Barcelona, 
1883, P- 228) : 

Duerme y descansa, penado. 
Desde azora ; 

Pues te ama tu senora 
De su grado ; 

Venza placer al cuidado, 
Y no le vea, 

Pues te ha hecho su privado 
Melibea. 

Mr. Bullen, who is apparently not aware that these lyrics are transla- 
tions, finds a more remote resemblance in one of the fragments of 
Sappho. 

26. Albion's Triumph. This masque was " presented by the King 
and his lords, Sunday after Twelfth Night." Inigo Jones contrived it 
and procured Townsend to write it. The flattery of royalty by obvious 
classical allusion needs no explanation here. 

27. Love in thy Youth. There is a MS. copy of this poem, Ash- 
mole MS. 38, No. 188. 

28. Peter Hausted, a Cambridge clergyman, " was killed on the 
ramparts of Banbury, while the Roundheads were vigorously besieging 
it" (Gosse). The Rival Friends is described on the title as "cried 
dowui by boys, faction, envy and confident ignorance ; approved by the 
judicious, and now exposed to public censure by the author"; and 
dedicated " To the Right Honourable, Right Reverend, Right Worship- 
ful, or whatever he be, or shall be, whom I hereafter may call patron." 

29. William Habington, says Anthony a Wood, "was educated 
at S. Omers and Paris ; in the first of which he was earnestly 
invited to take upon him the habit of the Jesuits, but by excuses, got 
free and left them. After his return from Paris, being at man's estate, 



240 NOTES. 

he was instructed at home in matters of history by his father, and 
became an accomplished gentleman" {Athenae Oxon., ed. 1817, III, 
223). Wood relates further that Habington, during the Commonwealth, 
"did run with the times, and was not unknown to Oliver the Usurper." 
Besides Caslara, Habington wrote a play and some Observatio?is upon 
History. 

29. Castara. The text is from Professor Arber's reprint of the 
ed. 1 634- 1 640. Castara was Lady Lucy Herbert, daughter of Lord 
Powis, whom the poet married between 1630 and 1633. The poems are 
largely autobiographical, and smack strongly of the characteristics of 
the Elizabethan sonnet sequences, though few of them are in anything 
even approaching the sonnet form. Professor Masson assigns the 
earlier poems of Castara to the year 1632; the later ones were written 
after Habington's marriage {Life of Milto)i, I, 454). 

29 2. In the chaste nunn'ry of her breasts. Cf. Lovelace's use of 
the same figure below, — To Ltccasta, on Going to the Wars, 132 2. 

29 5. Transplanted thus, how bright ye grow. Cf. Carew, On a 
Damask Rose, sticking upofi a Lady''s Breast. 

29 7. Close. Walled in, protected. 

29 14. Your glorious sepulchre shall be. Cf. with this verse and 
the whole poem, Herrick's lines Upon the Roses in Julians Bosot?i : 

Thrice happy roses, so much graced, to have 
Within the bosom of my love your grave ! 
Die when ye will, your sepulchre is known, 
Your grave her bosom is, the lawn the stone. 

30 16. The withered marigold. In allusion to the popular belief 
that the marigold closes its petals with the setting of the sun. Cf. 
Carew, The Marigold, below, p. 43. 

30 5. Some cherubim. Often used as a singular in Shakespeare's 
day and later. Cf. Tempest, i. 2. 152, and 73 6, below. 

31. Against them that lay Unchastity to the Sex of Woman. 
This poem is written in direct answer to Donne's Song, " Go and catch 
a falling star." See Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 97. 

31 3. They hear but when the mermaid sings. Donne : " Teach 
me to hear mermaid's singing." 

31 5. Who ever dare affirm. Donne : 

And swear 
Nowhere 
Lives a woman true and fair. 



NOTES. 241 

31 11. Right ones. True ones, real ones. 

32. George Herbert enjoyed a distinguished career at Cambridge, 
procuring in 1619 the public oratorship of the University. This, with 
the high position of his family, brought him into contact with the court, 
where he was held in high favor by James, and enjoyed the personal 
friendship of Bacon and Dr. Donne. Having entered the church, in 
1630 he became rector of Fuggelstone, after which he survived only 
three years. His life was pure and saint-like and has been beautifully 
told by Isaak Walton. 

32. The Temple, Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations is the 
title of Herbert's volume of devotional poetry. This title appears to 
have been given the work after Herbert's death by his friend and 
literary executor, Nicholas Ferrar. One of the two extant MSS. of 
The Temple, that in the Williams Library, London, bears the title, The 
Church, the later title having been given the work from Psalm XXIX, 
" In his Temple doth every man speak of his honor," which appears in 
the printed title. The book enjoyed from the first a great popularity, a 
second edition following in the same year, with no less than eleven 
successors up to 1709. 

32. The Altar, Easter Wings. Both of these poems were printed 
in the original editions to shape their titles. A chapter, interesting to 
the curious, might be written on these shaped verses. Puttenham in 
his The Art of English Poesie devotes considerable space to a grave dis- 
cussion of " the lozange, fuzie, tricquet, pillaster, piramis " ; and 
derives their invention from " the Courts of the great princes of China 
and Tartary." Such devices, with acrostics, anagrams, and other exer- 
cises of ingenuity, were very popular in the days of Elizabeth and 
James (see Sylvester, ed. Grosart, I, 4, 15; II, 321, etc., Wither, 
Arber's English Garner, IV, 476-478, and Micsarum Deliciae, II, 295, 
et passi?7i), but were ridiculed by such men as Jonson and Nashe. See 
the editor's Poetic and Verse Criticism of the Reign of Elizabeth, pp. 54, 
55, for a fuller account of this fashion. 

32 2. Cemented. Accent on the first syllable. 

32 10. The fall further the flight, i.e., " So shall the fall of man 
give me an opportunity for a longer and higher flight than would other- 
wise have been possible." 

33 12. Still. Ever. Cf. 5 9. 

33 19. Imp. In falconry, to mend or extend a deficient wing by the 
insertion of a feather. Cf. Carew's Ingratefiil Beauty Threatened, v. 6. 

33 5. The sweetness (of the flower) and the praise (for the act of 
grace). 



242 NOTES. 

33 14. To thy praise. With respect to ; we should say " in thy 
praise." Cf. Shakespeare Grammar, § i86. 

34 19. That. The honey. These. The flowers. 

34 22. All my company. " All the company or companionship that 
I furnish is that of a weed among flowers." 1 am indebted for this note 
and that on 32 10 to Professor Kittredge. 

34 23. Consort. Cf. a consort of music, an orchestra, with a play 
on the meaning, — those that live in agreement and harmony with thee. 

34 2. Bridal. Bridal day. This w^ord was originally bride ale, 
bride's feast, and had not yet lost its etymological meaning in Herbert's 
day. 

34 5. Angry. Red, the color of anger. 

34 5. Brave. Beautiful, here perhaps gaudy. Cf. 81 15. 

34 11. Closes. In music the end of a strain or cadence. Cf. Dry- 
den's Flower and the Leaf, 197. 

34 2. Train-bands. Citizen soldiers of London. 

35 11. I heard in music you had skill. Herbert is reported to 
have been an excellent musician, " not only singing, but playing on the 
lute and viol." 

35 17. Wit. In the usual contemporary meaning, mind, under- 
standing. Cf. witty, 18 5. 

36 9. Regiments. Rules, governments. Cf. the title of John 
Knox's book. First Blast of the Trumpet against the MoJtstrous Regi- 
ment of Women. 

36 13. Weeds. Garments. 

36 2. Your sense. Your senses in modern English. Cf. 37 30, 
94 5, and 127 19. 

37 20. Propagation. The termination dissyllabic, as usual. Cf. 
75 4. 

37 23. Commerce. So accentuated by Shakespeare ; see Troihis 
and Cressida, i. 3. 105 : " Peaceful commerce from dividable shores." 

38. Arcades. " Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess 
Dowager of Derby at Harefield by some noble persons of her family, 
who appear on the scene in pastoral habit." This was Milton's first 
masque. He seems to have been invited to write it by his friend, 
Henry Lawes, the famous musician. The piece, as we have it, is not 
complete, the prose parts being probably not Milton's. 

38 1. Enamelled. A favorite word of the age. Bright, variegated 
is a secondary and probably later sense. 

38 2. Print of step. Cf. Comus, 897 : " printless feet." 
38 4. Warbled. Tuneful. Cf. Comus, 854. 



NOTES. 243 

38 6. Star-proof elm. Cf. Faery Queen, i. i. 7. This is one of 
several of Milton's trivial inaccuracies in the observation of nature, 
as the foliage of the elm is notably light. 

38 2. Sandy Ladon. Ladon, a river in Arcadia. Cf. Browne's 
Britannia's Pastorals, ii. 4. 

38 2. Lilied. Cf. Sylvester, Bethulia's Rescue, ed. Grosart, II, 
194. 

38 3. LyCcBUS. A mountain of Arcadia sacred to Zeus and to Pan. 
Cyllene was the highest mountain of the Peloponnesus. 

38 5. Erymanth. Probably here neither particularly the stream nor 
mountain of that name, but the region in which both are situated. 

38 7. Maenalus. Also a mountain in Arcadia, especially sacred to 
Pan. 

38 9. Have greater grace. Meet with greater favor. 

38 11. Syrinx. The story of this Arcadian nymph, pursued by 
Pan and turned into a reed, is a familiar classical fable. 

39. A Masque. This is the title of Lawes' edition of 1637, of 
Milton's first edition of his poems, and his second edition of 1673. 
Thomas Warton in his excellent ed. of Milton, 1785, says: "I have 
ventured to insert this title {Comus^ which has the full sanction of 
use." The original music of the songs of Co?mis, written by Lawes, 
who was himself one of the performers at its presentation, is preserved 
in the British 'Mnsexim, Add. MS. 11 5-1 18. The music of t\iQ Sojig, 
" Sweet Echo," is printed in Hawkins' History of Music, IV, 53. 

39 2. Airy shell. Vault or convex of the heavens. Cf. Ode on the 
Nativity, stanza x, where a similar expression is applied to the moon's 
sphere : 

Nature that heard such sound, 

Beneath the hollow round 

Of Cynthia's seat the airy region thrilling. 

39 3. Margent. A doublet of margin. 

39 4. Violet-embroidered. Compounds such as these were less 
common among the poets of Milton's day than a generation 
earlier. 

39 5. Love-lorn. Deprived of her mate. Cf. Tempest, iv. i. 68: 
" lass-lorn." 

39 7. A gentle pair. Warton directs our attention to these very 
words in The Faithful Shepherdess, i. i, as one instance of many 
" which prove Milton's intimate familiarity with Fletcher's play." 

39 14. Give resounding grace, i.e., the grace of an echo. Warton 



244 NOTES. 

notes Lawes' ' professional alteration ' of this verse to " And hold a 
counterpoint to all heaven's harmonies." 
39 1. Sabrina fair. Cf. line 824, above: 

There is a gentle Nymph not far from hence, 
That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream : 
Sabrina is her name : a virgin pure ; 
Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, 
That had the sceptre from his father Brute. 
She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit 
Of her enraged stepdame, Guendolen, 
Commended her fair innocence to the flood 
That stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course. 

See Mr. Swinburne's fine tragedy on this old theme. 

39 3. Glassy . . . wave. Cf. Hamlet, iv. 7. 168. 

39 5. Amber-dropping. The water dripping from her hair, partak- 
ing its color by reflection. Todd gives the following parallel from 
Nashe's Terj-ors of the AHght, 1594: "Their hair they wear loose 
unrowled about their shoulders, whose dangling amber trammells reach- 
ing down beneath their knees, seem to drop baulm on their delicious 
bodies." Milton is very fond of the word ajnber. Cf. U Allegro, 61, 
Paradise Lost, iii. 359, Paradise Regained, iii. 288, and Comns, 333. 

39 10-21. Great Oceanus. Hesiod, Theog. 20 ; repeated again and 
again by such English poets as Drayton in the Polyolbion, and Jonson 
in the Queen's Masque. See Warton's note. In the lines following we 
have a long list of the ancient deities of the sea : Tethys, the aged wdfe 
of Oceanus; Nereus, the old man of the sea, who sits at the bottom in 
ooze and slime; the prophetic (wizard) Proteus, called the Carpathian, 
from the island Carpathos, in which, according to one of the legends, 
he was supposed to have been born, with the shepherd's crook (hook) 
with which he tended his flocks of seals ; the merman Triton, with his 
conch ; Glaucus, the immortal fisherman, god of mariners ; Leucothea, 
otherwise Ino, who, like Sappho, jumped into the sea, and, like Arion, 
was rescued by a dolphin ; Thetis, the Nereid, mother of Achilles ; the 
Sirens, Ligea and Parthenope, whose tomb was adored at Naples. 
Milton fairly revels in allusions such as these, and his poetry is full of 
like passages. Warton gives several parallels from previous poets in 
the use of these myths and the epithets with which they are described. 
It may be noted that Drummond and Campion show, with Spenser 
before them and Browne after them, a like skill in the interweaving of 
classical allusion and proper names in their verse. 



NOTES. 245 

40 33. Where grows the willow, etc. Cf. The Faithful Shep- 
herdess, iii. I, where the river god speaks thus : 

I am this fountain's god : below, 
My waters to a river grow, 
And twixt two banks with osiers set, 
That only prosper in the wet, 
Through the meadows do they glide. 

40 34. My sliding chariot, etc. This idea of Sabrina's chariot seems 
suggested by Drayton's Folyolbion, Song; v. i, ed. Hooper, I, 129 : 

Now Sabrine, as a queen, miraculously fair. 

Is absolutely placed in her imperial chair 

Of crystal richly wrought, that gloriously did shine. 

Cf. the two passages at length. 

40 35. Azurn. Italian azzurrino, suggests Todd. Cf. cedarn below, 
42 15. 

40 36. Turkis. Turquoise. 

40 39. Printless feet. Cf. Tejnpest, v. i. 34: "And ye that on the 
sands with printless feet do chase the ebbing Neptune " (Warton). 

41 49. Enchanter vile. Cf. Faery Queen, iii. 12. 31 (Todd). 

41 53. Thus I sprinkle. Cf. with this removal of the charm 
various like passages in The Faithful Shepherdess, collected and quoted 
by Warton. 

41 63. Amphitrite's bower. Drayton uses the same expression, 
Polyolbion, Song, xxviii. 

41 64. Daughter of Locrine. Cf. above, p. 39. The old genealogy 
derives the descent of Brute or Brutus, father of Locrine, from ^neas 
and Anchises. 

41 66. Brimmed. Rising to the brim or margin. Cf Lucretius, ii. 
362 : " Fluminaque ilia queunt, suni7Jiis labentia ripis.^^ 

41 75. Beryl . . . golden ore . . . groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 
The fanciful beauty of these charges invoked to bless an English stream 
is in the best vein of that poetical mythology which is one of the 
charms of the poetry of Michael Drayton. 

42 1. To the ocean now I fly, etc. These four lines are in the very 
rhythm and rhyme of the first four in Ariel's song in the Tempest, v. i : 

Where the bee sucks, there lurk I (Masson). 

42 4. Broad fields of the sky. Cf. ^neid, vi. 887 : "Aeris in cam- 
pis latis " (Warton). 



246 NOTES. 

42 7. Hesperus, and his daughters. It was in the garden of the 
Hesperides that the golden apples, given Juno as a marriage gift, were 
watched by the dragon Ladon. 

42 15. Cedarn. Cf. the similar form aziirn, 40 35, possibly both of 
them due to their Italian forms azztirruto and cedrino. 

42 18. Blow. Cause to blow\ Cf. Shakespeare Grammar^ § 291. 

42 19. Flowers. Dissyllabic. Cf. 88 il. 

42 20. Purfled. Fringed, embroidered with colors or gold (Fr. 
poiirfiler). Cf. Faery Queen, i. 2. 33: "Purfled with gold." 

42 27. Th' Assyrian queen. Astarte, identified with Venus, as her 
lover, Thammuz, was identified with Adonis. Cf. Paradise Lost, i. 
446, and Ezekiel, VIII, 12-14. See Masson's Milton, iii. 434, for an 
elaborate note on this passage in its relation to the entire poem 
of Comzis. 

43 42. Corners of the moon. Cf. Macbeth, iii. 5. 23 (Warton). 

43 46. Sphery chime. Cf. Arcades, 63-73, and Masson's note 
thereon, III, 392. 

43. Thomas Carew is described as a somewhat indolent student 
while at Oxford, " roving after hounds and hawks," later in the diplo- 
matic service, and finally, on attracting the notice of Charles I, sewer 
(i.e., cupbearer) in ordinary and gentleman of the privy chamber to that 
monarch. Carew's intimate literary friends were Suckling and Davenant. 
The text of Carew is from the reprint of the ed. of 1640, Edinburgh, 
1824, collated with Hazlitt's unsatisfactory ed. of 1870. 

43. The Marigold. This poem is referable to the Wybiird MS., 
written about 1634 (Hazlitt's Carew, p. xv) and there given this title. 
In the ed. of 1640 it appears with the title Boldness in Love. 

44. Thomas Randolph, after an honorable career as a student pen- 
sioner at Trinity, Cambridge, went up to London and was adopted one 
of the " sons of Ben." Randolph died young, more reputed for his 
promise than for actual achievement. Anthony Stafford, to whom this 
poem is addressed, was a notable prose writer in his day. His most 
important book was Stafford'' s Heavenly Dog, or the Life and Death of 
the Cynic Diogenes, 161 5. Stafford'' s Niobe, or his Age of Tears, 1611, 
and Stafford's Niobe dissolved into a Nihis were earlier works, both 
of them " a general invective against vice and a laudation of virtue." 
See Collier's Rarest Books in the English Langicage, IV, 90, for a fur- 
ther account of Stafford's work. I take the text of Randolph's poems 
from the original quarto, Oxford, 1638. 

44 4. Charge'ble. Expensive and burdensome. 

44 16. Puisne of the Inns-of-Court. A junior student in the law 



NOTES. 247 

courts, a freshman. Cf. Cowley, A Poetical Revenge, Sylva, ed. Grosart, 
p. 26 : "A semi-gentleman of the Inns of Court." 

45 23. No finger lose. An allusion to the poet's loss of a finger in 
a fray. See his Epigram, ed. Hazlitt, p. 553. 

45 32. Hyde Park, originally a game preserve, became a fashionable 
promenade in the reign of Charles II. See Shirley's play Hyde Park. 

45 36. The beauties, etc. The Cheap, now Cheapside, was the 
principal retail street of old London. Lombard Street contained the 
financial wealth of the city and the homes of some of the most substan- 
tial citizens. 

46 76. Barkley's health. Possibly capable of indentification with 
Sir John Berkley, Governor of Exeter, to whom Herrick addresses 
spirited lines, ed. Grosart, II, 250. 

46 78. Phrygian melody. The text sufficiently suggests the con- 
trast between the wild and orgiastic music of Phrygia and the sombre 
and dignified Doric. 

47 20. Leave. Cease. Cf. Drayton, " To his Coy Mistress," Eliza- 
bethan Lyrics, p. 196. 

48. The Arcadian Princess, a prose romance, " was translated," 
says Mr. Bullen, "from the Italian of Mariano Silesio, a Florentine, 
who died in 1368." 

48. Themista's reproof. This piling up of similitudes is a device 
common to a large group of verses of this time. Among the earliest is 
the poem beginning " Like to the falling of a star," attributed to Beau- 
mont, for which see Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 170. The lines of the text 
are scarcely more than a mock lyric, and yet some of the similitudes are 
so apt and the whole thing is so characteristic that I should hesitate to 
omit it. 

48 11. Mopping. Doating; a mop was a fool. 
48 14. Minion. Darling. 

49. Poems, 1645. There are three editions of Waller's poems 
bearing this date : (i) that " printed for Thomas Walkley " and entitled 
The Works of Edviond ^F<z//(?/', denounced in the advertisement which 
appears in both (2) and (3) as an " adulterate copy, surreptitiously and 
illegally imprinted to the derogation of the author and the abuse of the 
buyer" ; (2) that printed for H. Moseley by I. N. ; and (3) that printed 
for the same publisher by T. W. Mr. G. Thorn Drury, the most recent 
editor of Waller, states that (i) is "full of misprints," and that (3) con- 
sists "of the sheets of (i) bound up with a fresh title and the addition 
of the last seven poems contained in (3)." He is further of the opinion 
that none of these editions " had the countenance of the author " 



248 NOTES. 

(Drury's Waller, p. 277). In 1664 appeared the poet's own authoritative 
edition. Waller's popularity had by this time become very great. 

49. Lady Lucy Sidney was a younger sister of the more famous 
Lady Dorothea, Waller's Saccharissa. The title is found in the first 
ed. of 1645. I assign the probable composition of this and the follow- 
ing two poems to 1635, when the Lady Dorothea was some eighteen 
years of age. Fenton's date, 1632, is too early. 

49 8. May know too soon. This is Fenton's reading; Drury reads 
so soon. 

49 13. Hope waits upon the flowery prime. Cf. Cicero, De Senec- 
iute, 70. 

50. Saccharissa and Amoret. Saccharissa was Lady Dorothea 
Sidney, eldest daughter of the Earl of Leicester and grand niece to Sir 
Philip Sidney. Amoret has been identified by the diligence of Fenton 
as Lady Sophia Murray. Waller is generally supposed to have begun 
the stately courtship of his Saccharissa about the year 1632. Drury 
places this later, "towards the end of the year 1635." ^^^ episode 
was at an end in July, 1639, when Lady Sidney became Lady Spencer. 
The poems that connect the names of Waller and Saccharissa are very 
few in number, and more has been made of them than seems at all 
warranted by the circumstances. The genuineness of the poet's passion 
does not concern us ; his verses warrant the assumption that the matter 
was not very serious. See Drury, Poems of Waller, Introduction, and 
Mr. Gosse's From Shakespeare to Pope on this subject. 

50 8. Neither. Ed. of 1645 reads neither'' s. 

50 10. Still beguiled. Ever beguiled. Cf. 5 9, ZZ 12. 

50 15. Decline. Avoid. 

52 39. Amoret as sweet. Drury punctuates : " Amoret ! as sweet," 
etc. "Amoret['s] as sweet," etc., may be conjectured as possibly the 
right reading. Professor Kittredge suggests : " Amoret is sweet," etc., 
the ordinary ellipsis of as. 

53. Francis Quarles. " This voluminous saint," as Campbell calls 
him, was successively cupbearer to the queen of Bohemia, chronologer 
to the city of London, and secretary in Ireland to Archbishop Usher. 
Despite his diffuseness, extravagant hunting of conceit, and inequality, 
Quarles is not unvisited at moments by the fancy of a true poet, and 
there is an ingenuousness and fervor about him that goes far to account 
for his all but unexampled contemporary popularity. Quarles wrote 
much prose besides his extensive verse, all of which Dr. Grosart has 
reprinted in his edition in the Chertsey Worthies^ Library, 1881. 

53. Emblems is a series of five books of quasi-allegorical devotional 



NOTES. 249 

poems, in which a scriptural text is taken as the subject — or at least 
the point of departure. A fitting quotation from some one of the saints 
or fathers of the church follows, and a short epigram concludes. This 
work is modelled, if not largely borrowed, from Herman Hugo's Pia 
Desideria Eiiibletnatibus, Elegiis et Affectibiis SS. Patriim Illustrata, 
Antwerp, 1624, and illustrated by extraordinary allegorical cuts, also 
of Dutch origin. This poem is the third of the fifth book. The text 
is from Canticles, H, 16. 

53. whither shall I fly ? Job, XIV, 13. From the third book 
of Emblems, No. XH. 

53 12. Clip. Move swiftly, a favorite word with Quarles. Cf. 
Efnble?ns, v. 13, 17, and 34. 

53 13. Entertain. Harbor. 

54 31. Ingenuous is Grosart's reading ; other editions read ingenious. 

55 1. Ev'n like two little bank-dividing brooks. Cf. two very 
diverse uses of the same figure of a stream in Cartwright's poem. Love 
but One, below, p. 97, and Jean Ingelow's verses entitled Divided. 

55 5. Conjoin . . . mine. A perfect rhyme in Quarles' time and 
long after. Cf. coin and f}iine, below, vv. 17, 18; and see the same 
rhyme in Carew, below, 71 27. 

55 18. The world's but theirs, etc. Note that this line alone of 
those concluding each stanza fails of the required Alexandrine length. 
The verse of Quarles, like that of Wither, shows not infrequent evi- 
dence of a fatal facility. Professor Kittredge suggests regarding theirs 
as dissyllabic and inserting best before beloved'' s in conformity with the 
other concluding lines. 

55 19. Thespian ladies. From Thespiae, the native town of Phryne, 
where was preserved the celebrated statue of Eros by Praxiteles. 

56. George Sandys was much admired in his own day for his devo- 
tional poetry, although few of his verses were more than translations, 
such as the Psalms of David, A Paraphrase of the Book of Job, Eccle- 
siastes. Son of an archbishop, Sandys received the best education which 
Oxford, the court, and foreign travel could give. Of his travels, which 
were very extensive, he published an account upon his return in 161 5, 
and the book enjoyed a great popularity. While in the colony of Vir- 
ginia, 1623, as the Company's treasurer, he translated Ovid's Metamor- 
phoses. Sandys was a personal friend of Charles I and highly esteemed 
by that king. He was held in great respect by the critics of the days 
of Dryden and Pope. 

56. Deo Optimo Maximo. This poem concludes the volume of 
Sandys' poems published in 1641, and displays his versification at its best. 



250 NOTES. 

56 4. Steadfast centre of the world. Sandys had evidently not 
accepted the Copernican system ; Bacon never did. Cf. v. 9, below, 
and Waller's figure, above, 6 12. 

57 26. Successive. Uninterrupted. 

58 54. Panchaea. District in the neighborhood of Mecca, men- 
tioned with a reference to Ovid, Meta. i. 10, in the Travels, fourth ed., 
1670, p. 97. Sandys does not seem to have been nearer to Mecca than 
Cairo. 

58 55. New found-out world. Virginia. See note on Sandys, above. 

58 62. Judah's hill. The third book of the Travels is devoted to 
his journeyings in the Holy Land, including his visit to the Temple of 
Christ's sepulchre. The allusions of the succeeding lines are not trace- 
able in the Travels, which are written very impersonally. 

59 83. Pirates. A very real peril in 1610. 

59. Abraham Cowley. A poet in print at fifteen, Cowley witnessed 
the third edition of his Poetical Blossoms before he had been a year at 
college. Ejected from Cambridge for his royalist leanings, after a short 
stay at Oxford he entered the service of Queen Henrietta Maria, retir- 
ing with her to Paris on the surrender of the king. There it was that 
he found his college intimate, Crashaw, in penury and sent him with a 
royal introduction to Rome. Cowley, whose life was cleanly, religious, 
and somewhat austere, was neglected by Charles at the Restoration, but 
was repaid at his death by a royal bon mot. If Cowley's poetry was 
soon eclipsed by a new, dominant mode, and his loyalty interpreted 
largely a matter of sentiment, his honesty, his unaffected love of litera- 
ture, and his genuine scholarship deserve a respectful remembrance. 

59. A Vote. An ardent wish, a vow. This is the title of this 
poem in Sylva, an early volume of Cowley's verse. The stanzas here 
given are only the last three, which the author himself selected for 
quotation in his Several Discourses by way of Essays in Verse and 
Prose, 1 661. I have given the later readings, which improve the text 
in two or three small particulars. Cowley says : " The beginning of 
it is boyish, but of this which I here set down (if a very little were cor- 
rected) I should hardly now be much ashamed " {Several Discourses, 
ed. 1680, p. 143). 

59 5. Unknown. Sylva version reads ig?tote. 

59 7. Have. Sylva, hug. 

59 15. And pleasures yield. And my garden should yield pleasures 
which Horace might envy. 

59 17. Thus would I double, etc. " You may see by it," says 
Cowley, " I was even then acquainted with the poets, for the conclusion 



NOTES. 251 

is taken out of Horace." Cf. Several Discozirses, p. 144. Indeed, the 
whole tone of these delightful essays is that of a gracious Epicureanism. 
Again and again does Cowley return to the pleasant theme, paraphras- 
ing Horace or Claudian's Old Man of Verojia. 

60 6. Track. Tract is the reading of Sylva, ed. Grosart ; tract and 
track were commonly confused. 

60 7. Fond. Foolish. 

60 15. Horse. Pack-horse. 

61. Sir John Suckling inherited wealth and high social position 
when but eighteen years of age. He soon plunged into the gayest and 
wildest of lives, and became no less famous for his verses and his wit 
than notorious for his lavish extravagance, inveterate gaming, and dis- 
solute life. Suckling was not conspicuous for his bravery either in the 
field against the Scotch or in private life. A loyalist by right of his 
birth, he was accused of scheming to save Strafford, and fled the realm, 
cutting the thread of an ill-spent life by his own hand in Paris when less 
than thirty-five years old. As a writer of vers de societe, delightful, dar- 
ing and cynical, perfectly well-bred, and at times of the highest artistic 
merit, Suckling at his best was unexcelled in his age. See Lord de 
Tabley's fine poem, "On a Portrait of Sir John Suckling " {Poons Dra- 
matic and Lyrical, 1893), ^^ which Suckling is perversely, though poet- 
ically, glorified as the ideal soldier and gentleman, as well as the typical 
poet of an age which Lord de Tabley appears to believe was far better 
than ours. 

61. Aglaura was acted at Blackfriars. Suckling bestowed eight 
or ten new suits on the players upon the occasion, an unheard-of 
liberality. 

61. Why so pale. This is the very perfection of the bantering, 
satirical lyric, in which the age of Charles excelled. Cf. Cotton's poem, 
Advice. 

In a school edition of "The Cavalier Poets," a prudent American 
Bowdler has expunged the last line of this poem, lest the infant mind 
be polluted by the wicked freedom of old Sir John's Muse. 

61. True Love. This poem exhibits the direct influence of Donne. 
Cf . Lovers Growth : 

I scarce believe my love to be so pure 

As I had thought it was, 

Because it doth endure 
Vicissitude and season as the grass ; 
Methinks I lied all winter when I swore, 
My love was infinite, if spring make it more. 



252 NOTES. 

62 1. Ah Ben. Herrick left Cambridge in 1620; he went to Dean 
Prior in 1629. In this interval, and perhaps before, he must have 
enjoyed the convivial circle of Jonson and have taken him for his 
master. Cf. with the spirit of this poem, A Lyric to Mirth, To live 
merrily, and to trust to good verses. An Ode to Sir Clipseby Crew, etc.. 
Selections from Herrick, by Professor Hale, Athenaeum Press Series, 
pp. 19, 31, and 92, whose assignment of date I follow. 

62 5. The Sun, the Dog, the Triple Tun. Names of London 
taverns of the day. The Sun was in Fish Street Hill and continued 
noted up to the time of Pepys ; the Dog was in the vicinity of White- 
hall and Westminster Hall, and much frequented by the Tribe of Ben ; 
the Three Tuns was in Guildhall Yard, and was famous later as the 
tavern at which General Monk lodged in 1660 {London Past and 
Present, s.ti). 

63 3. Candies the grass. Cf. Drayton's Quest of Cinthia, Bullen's 
Selections, 1883, p. 109: 

Since when those frosts that winter brings 
Which candies every green. 

Cf. also Browne's Britannia's Pastorals, I, p. 4 (Fry). 

63 6. A sacred birth to the dead swallow. Sacred is the reading 
of the reprint of the edition of 1640, Edinburgh, 1824, and of the two 
other editions which I have consulted. It may be suspected that Carew 
wrote a second birth in allusion to the popular superstition concerning 
the hibernation of swallows, by which they are supposed to hang in 
caves or lie in clinging masses, plunged in water under the ice to revive 
with the return of spring or by means of artificial heat. See Timbs' 
Popular Errors Explained and N'otes and Queries, Series I, XII, 512, 
and Series III, VI, 539, 403. 

64 24. June in her eyes, in her heart January. Cf. with this fine 
conceit Greene's lines in Perimedcs the Blacksmith, ed. Grosart, VII, 90 : 

Fair is my love for April in her face, 

Her lovely breasts September claims his part, 

And lordly July in her eyes takes place, 
But cold December dwelleth in her heart. 

Another version is found in Morley's First Book of Madrigals, 1 594. 
Oliphant suggests an Italian origin. 

64. Persuasions to Love. This poem is addressed to A. L. in the 
original. Mr. Saintsbury declares that it is " an unwearying delight " 
to read it. See the rest of his appreciative comment on Carew {Eliza- 
bethan Literature, p. 361). 



NOTES. 253 

64 2. Fresh as April. MS. reads " Fair as Helen, fresh as May" 
(Hazlitt). 

65 39. Abron. A variant of auburn. 

65 49. To your friend. For, or as, your friend. See Shakespeare 
Grammar, § 189. 

65 51. Still. Ever. Cf. 5 9, ?>?> 12, 50 10. 

66 63. Pined. Wasted away. Cf. Fletcher's The Sea Voyage, ii. 2 : 

I left in yonder desert 
A virgin almost pined. 

66 80. Do reason. Act reasonably. 

67 13. The Assyrian king. Nebuchadnezzar, Daniel, III, 5, 6. 

68 1. Quick. Living, 

69 6. Fortress. Cf. this and the third stanza below with Suckling's 
verses, The Siege, below, p. 108. 

70. Celia Singing. Cf. with this Song, Campion's 0/ Corinna's 
Singing and Marvell's The Fair Singer, below% p. 157. 

70 1. Fair copy. Cf. an imitation of this poem in Holburn-Drolle^y, 
1673, p. 25. 

71 20. The stamp of kings imparts no more. Cf. Burns : 

The rank is but the guinea's stamp, 
A man 's a man for a' that, 

I notice that Mr, Richard Le Gallienne, following a correspondent of 
Notes and Quei'ies, Series II, VII, 184, mentions this parallel in his 
appreciative little review of Carew {Retrospective Reviews, II, 80), 

73. Epitaph. Carew wrote several epitaphs of much grace, espe- 
cially the three on the Lady Mary Villiers. I have preferred this on 
Lady Mary, daughter of Sir Thomas Wentworth, as more character- 
istic, if fuller of conceits. 

73 6. A cherubin. Cf. 30 5. 

74 3. Beauty's orient deep. This is the reading of the reprint of 
1640, the word being spelled beautie's. The apostrophe was, of course, 
not in the original, and might be placed so as to read beauties'. Mr, 
Saintsbury reads For in yonr beauties, orient deep. 

74 11, Dividing. Performing music, especially with divisions or 
variations, 

74 18. Phoenix. The allusions to this famous myth throughout the 
literature of this and the previous century are legion. The story seems 
to have been introduced into the literatures of Western Europe in the 
Elegia de Phcenice, a poem of the third century, usually attributed to 



254 NOTES. 

Lactantius. Lactantius had as his chief source the version of the legend 
by Manilius, which is now lost, but was extant in the fourteenth cen- 
tury. See in later literature The P/icenix and the Turtle, 1601 ; Browne's 
Song of the Sirejis ; and Herrick's Aliptial Song- to Sir Clipseby Crew. 

75. Murdering Beauty. This poem appears also in WW s Recreations. 

75 6. Murderers. Cannon loaded with scattering missiles, and so 
called from their infliction of superfluous death. 

75. Delight in Disorder and the poem immediately following are 
assigned to the earlier part of Herrick's vicarage at Dean Prior. In 
1640 he was probably in London, arranging for the publication of his 
poems, for in that year there is a stationer's register of The Several 
Poems written by Master Robert Herrick. The book does not appear 
to have come to press. 

75 1. A sweet disorder, etc. Cf. Upon Julia''s Clothes and Upojt 
Julia's Ribbajtd, Herrick, ed. Hale, pp. 112 and 20. See also Jonson's 
Simplex Munditiis, Herrick's probable original, and the dainty verses 
beginning: " My love in her attire doth show her wit," in Davison's 
Poetical Rhapsody {Elizabethan Lyrics, pp. 151 and 127). 

75 2. Wantonness. Sportiveness. 

75 4. Distracti5n. Confusion. Cf. 37 20. 

75 5. Erring. In its original signification, wandering. 

75 12. Civility. Good breeding. 

75 13. Do more bewitch me, etc. Cf. Jonson : 

Such sweet neglect more taketh me 
Than all th' adulteries of art ; 

and Herrick's own charming lines : 

Whenas in silks my Julia goes, 

Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows, 

That liquefaction of her clothes. 

Next, when I cast mine eyes, and see 
That brave vibration each way free ; 
Oh, how that glittering taketh me ! 

76. To the Virgins. This song was early set to music by Lawes 
and enjoyed great popularity. It appears in an early ed. of Wit's 
Recreations. 

77 5. Teemed. Poured out. 

78 2. Protestant. Queried protester by Dr. Grosart. To which 
Professor Hale adds : " His Protestation to Perilla gives us the prob- 
able meaning. He will live to assert his devotion to her." 



NOTES. 255 

79. To Meadows. Cf. Vaughan's The Hidden Flower, below, p. 
147. 

79 6. Wicker arks. Baskets. 

79 8. Richer. More golden in color. 

79 10. In a round. Dancing. Cf. the poet's The Country Life : 
" Tripping the homely country round." 

79 20. Estates. Conditions. 

81 15. Brave. Cf. 34 5. 

81 6. My Prue. Prudence Baldwin, immortalized for her fidelity 
by her master in this and in other verses: 

These summer birds did with thy master stay 
The times of warmth, but then they flew away, 
Leaving their poet, being now grown old, 
Expos'd to all the coming winter's cold. 
But thou, kind Prue, did'st with my fates abide 
As well the winter's as the summer's tide ; 
For which thy love, live with thy master here, 
Not one, but all the seasons of the year. 

81 10. Creaking. Cackling. Harrison says of geese : " It is ridicu- 
lous to see how they will peep under the doors, and never leave off 
creaking a.nd gaggling, etc. {^Elizabethan England, ed. Camelot, p. 163). 

82 24. Miching. Skulking. 

82 26. Tracy. Herrick's dog, of which he writes : 

Now thou art dead, no eye shall ever see, 
For shape and service, spaniel like to thee. 

83 7. Ward. Protect. 

83 22. Unfled. Undamaged by mould. A Shropshire word, accord- 
ing to Halliwell. 

83 28. Pulse. Peas or beans. 

84 31. The worts, the purslane. Wort is an old generic term for 
vegetable ; purslane was formerly used in salads and for garnishing. 

84 39. Wassail bowls. The wassail bowl was compounded of 
spiced ale and drunk amongst friends and neighbors on New Year's 
Eve in good fellowship and for the drowning of former animosity. 
The custom continued long in the greatest popularity. See Brand's 
Popular Antiquities, ed. 18 1 3, I, i. 

84 42. Soils. Manures, makes fruitful. 

85. Nox Nocti, etc. Cf. Psalms, XIX. "The heavens declare the 
glory of God ; and the firmament sheweth his handiwork." This verse 
forms the text of the whole poem. 



256 AZOTES. 

85 3. So rich with jewels hung, etc. Cf. Romeo and Juliet, i. v. 47 : 

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of Night 
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear. 

85 5. My soul her wings. Cf. Isaiah, XL, 31. 

85 8. In the large volume of the skies. Cf. Drummond's " fair 
volume of the world " in the sonnet entitled The Book of the World, 
Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 205, and note thereon. 

85 9. For the bright firmament. Cf. Psalm, XIX, i. 

8625. That from the farthest north. Ci. /ere??iidh, I, 14, 15,^/ 
passim, and Daniel, XI, 13-15- 

86. Cleodora was performed at Whitehall before the king and 
queen by the Earl of Pembroke's own servants, the scenes and cos- 
tumes being very rich and curious. 

87. The Imposture. I assign this play, with Mr. Fleay, Biographical 
Chronicle of the English Drama, II, 246, to 1640, because of the line 
of the Prologue : " He has been stranger long to the English scene." 
Shirley returned permanently from Ireland between February and June, 
1640. 

88 n. Flowers. Dissyllabic. 

88 16. Owe. Own. Cf. Midstinimer Night's Dream, ii. 2. 79. 

88 5. Each shade, etc. As the sun rises the shadows of the earth, 
here identified with earthly things, become short, and our attention is 
turned to the radiance of heaven. If we wait until " the star of 
peace" sets, we must lose our way in earthly shadow. 

89. The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses. This masque "was 
represented by young men of quality at a private entertainment." 

89 1. The glories of our blood. This one song should preserve 
Shirley immortal. 

90. His Winding-Sheet. I follow Professor Hale in placing this 
poem before 1641, in which year the Star Chamber alluded to was 
abolished. Professor Hale calls this " of all Herrick's more serious 
pieces, the chief," and notes the remarkable absence in it of " any 
Christian thought on immortality." 

90 19. Cf.>^, III, 18, 19. 

90 29. The Court of Requests was also abolished in 1641. 

91 47. The Platonic Year is that wherein everything shall return to 
its original state, the year in which the cycles of the seven planets are 
fulfilled on the same day. Cf. Plato, Ti7na:us, cap. 33 (Hale). 

91. George Wither. As to this fertile and worthy pamphleteer in 
verse and prose, see Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 281. Although Wither's 



NOTES. 257 

devotional verse began with The Hymns and Songs of the Church, 
1623, his best work of the kind is to be found in the three parts of 
Haleluiah. Wither's simplicity of diction and freedom from adorn- 
ment seem better suited to the subject of the poem in the text than to 
some of his more ambitious efforts. No one who knows The Shep- 
hei'd^s Hunting and Fair Virtue can for a moment deny the poet in 
Wither. To him there was a greater mistress than art ; but instead of 
enlisting art in the service of religion, he felt that her ornaments and 
gauds were to be discarded as among the deceitful appearances which 
lure men from the straight and narrow way. Though kindly, Wither 
is thus in his devotional poetry always didactic. 

91. A Rocking Hymn. The text is from the reprint of the Spenser 
Society, 1879. The following quaint note precedes the verses : " Nurses 
usually sing their children asleep and, through w^ant of pertinent matter, 
they oft make use of unprofitable (if not worse) songs. This was there- 
fore prepared that it might help acquaint them and their nurse-children 
with the loving care and kindness of their Heavenly Father." 

94. William Cartwright was one of the " sons of Ben," a writer of 
plays in his youth while at Oxford, a priest in orders after 1638. His 
works, posthumously published, are preceded by more than fifty pages 
of commendatory verse amongst the writers of which are James Howell, 
Sherburne, Jasper Mayne, and Alexander Brome. Ben Jonson is reported 
in the preface to have said, " my son, Cartwright, writes like a man." 
Cartwright exhibited great promise in his poetry, and not inconsider- 
able achievement in his dramas. It is not easy to select many poems 
which are entirely good from Cartwright, though many separate stanzas 
or lesser passages display unusual merit. The text is from the first edi- 
tion, as indicated ; 1 641 is the latest date assigned to any poem in the vol- 
ume. These erotic songs were doubtless written several years earUer. 

94 5. Sense. Cf. 36 2. 

94 7. Art we see. Note the omission of that and cf. Shakespeare 
Grammar, § 281. 

96. A Valediction. Few poems could better show the influence of 
Donne's subtle intellectual refinements than this and the previous one. 
Cartwright at his best, as here, seems to me to preserve also much of 
Donne's sincerity. 

96 12. Nor would those (the showers) fall nor these (the sun- 
beams) shine forth to me. 

96 15. Parting view. My eyes as I part with you. 

96 17. Snatch and keep. Take eagerly to myself and preserve in 
memory. 



258 NOTES. 

96 19. Fancy. Imagination. 

97 1. See these two little brooks. Cf. one of the best of Quarles' 
EmbleJJis, v. 3, above, p. 55, and Jean Ingelow's Divided, in which the 
idea is fully expanded. 

97 13. Presents. Represents. 

98. The Sad Lover. I do not succeed in finding this poem else- 
where. The original edd. of Wit^s Recreations are not accessible to 
me. From the reprint of Park, 1817, it appears that the section en- 
titled " Fancies and Fantastics," in which this poem and the follow- 
ing are found, was not in the first ed. of 1640. I may state that even 
the enumeration of edd. in the preface of this unsatisfactory book is 
incorrect. 

98 6. Straight. Suddenly. Cf. 164 3. 

98 17. Epact. The epact is "the excess of a solar over a lunar year 
or month." The figure is here applied to the difference between w^hat 
seems to be the seasonable moment in which to court and what is really 
that seasonable moment. See the stanza above, where the lover longs 
for " some almanac," etc. Donne is the parent of the metaphysics and 
the physics of all such passages. 

99. Richard Crashaw was a precocious student and poet while at 
Cambridge. In 1643 Crashaw (with five others, fellows of Peterhouse) 
lost his fellowship because he refused to take the oath of the Solemn 
League and Covenant. Entering the priesthood of the Roman Cath- 
olic Church he was recommended to Rome by Queen Henrietta, but 
died soon after as beneficiary or sub-canon of the Basilica church of 
Our Lady of Loreto. 

99. Wishes to his Supposed Mistress. I have given the text of 
the Harleian MS. of this poem. The vastly inferior version in WiVs 
Recreations ^\\.o\^^ that the poem was well known in 1641. How much 
earlier it may have been written, or whether the revision came after 
that date, it is impossible to say. 

99 2. She. The common use of the pronoun for the noun. Cf. 
134 17, 182 10, and Shakespeare Grammar, § 224. 

99 18. Tire. Attire, dress. 

99 20. Taffeta or tissue. Taffeta was a fine, smooth silk fabric ; 
tissue, a cloth interwoven with gold or silver. 

99 20. Can. Cf. a like usage of this verb, 2 3. 

100 25. A face that 's best by its own beauty drest. Cf. Herrick's 
Delight in Disorder, p. 75, and the note thereon. 

100 30. Ope. Open. 

100 33. Writes what the reader sweetly ru'th. "Depict that 



NOTES. 259 

beauty which makes the beholder suffer the sweet sorrow of love " 
(Kittredge). 

100 36. His. Its. Formerly neuter as well as masculine. See 
Shakespeare Grammar, § 228, and cf. 99 17, above. 

100 40. Looks that. I.e., looks that oppress, overpower the richest 
apparel which decks them, which clothe and dress up the barest 
costume. 

100 43. Eyes that displace . . . out-face . . . grace. This is Gro- 
sart's reading on the authority of the Harleian MS. ; Turnbull prints, 
with the version of Wit's Recreations : 

Eyes that displaces 

The neighbor diamond, and outfaces 

That sunshine by their own sweet graces. 

101 57. Long choosing a dart. Long finding a weapon powerful 
enough to reach so well-controlled (well-tamed) a heart. 

101 70. Fond and flight. Foolish and fleeting. 

101 74. Those [that] are shed. Cf. 1 2, 4 6, 9 2, IS 5, 94 7. 

102 88. Sydneian showers of sweet discourse. Explained by Mr. 
Palgrave : "Either in allusion to the conversations in the Arcadia, or 
to Sidney himself, as a model of gentleness in spirit and demeanor " 
{Golden Treastiry, p. 357). 

102 98. Name. Report, fame. 

102 100. Flattery, etc. Painting and poetry may flatter her, but 
let her own virtue be her sole counsellor. 

102 103. Store of worth, etc. I wish that she may have such an 
abundance of worth that she may not need many wishes for things not 
already in her possession. 

103 118. Enjoy. This word was pronounced in Crashaw's day and 
long after so as to rhyme with the last syllable of apply. Cf. coin 
rhyming with resign, 71 25, and 114 5. 

102 123. Determine. End them, resolve them into. 

103. The Merry Beggars. The text of this song is from the 
reprint of Brome's plays by Pearson, 1873. ^^ seeitis almost too good 
for Brome. In the same play a song is introduced which is undoubt- 
edly Campion's. 

104 16. Remore us. Delay us. Cf. remora, the creature fabled to 
delay ships by attaching itself to their bottoms. 

104. Lord Strafford's Meditations. Occasional lyrics such as this, 
though not up to the standard of the highest literary art, have fre- 



260 NOTES. 

quently a genuineness and fervor of passion that brings them literally 
within Wordsworth's famous designation of poetry as " the spontane- 
ous overflow of powerful emotion." A large and interesting collection 
of such applied poetry might be made from the literature of the six- 
teenth and seventeenth centuries. Cf. the pieces ascribed to Raleigh in 
Hannah's ed. of Raleigh and Wotton, the works of several of the poets 
contained in Dr. Grosart's Fuller Worthies' Miscellanies, and Eliza- 
bethan Lyrics, pp. 27, 94, 129, and 188. 

105 33. In Thetis' lap he lies. In allusion to the deep security 
which one might enjoy in the depths of the sea. 

106 41. Did fly in Charles's wain. Charles's wain, like the dipper, 
was a popular appellation applied to the cluster of seven stars in the 
constellation of Ursa Major. The play upon words by which Charles's 
(the King's) w'ain (wagon) is likened to the chariot of the Sun, and 
Stafford's "ambitious wings" to the audacious act of Phaethon in 
attempting to drive his father's fiery steeds, is as apt as it is obvious. 
Cf. the similar play upon words in The Passionate AIan''s Pilgrimage, 
where Christ, described as " the King's Attorney, . . . hath angels, but 
no fees." See also below, 106 63. These conceits seem not the result 
of cool ingenuity, but the genuine product of a fancy heightened by 
momentary excitement. 

106 52. Glorious seat. Alike the exalted position of the star and 
of the statesman figured forth by it. 

106 53. Influence. In the original astrological sense of the word: 
" The effect of the planets in determining the events of man's life." 

107. Fragmenta Aurea, a Collection of all the Incomparable Pieces 
writtefi by Sir John Sicckiing, was the title un<ier which the poetry of 
Suckling was published posthumously. I have before me the third ed. 
1658, and Langbaine mentions a later one of 1676, " to which are added 
several poems and other pieces, which were by his sister's permission 
allowed to be published." 

108. The Siege. The figure which is elaborated in this poem has 
been frequently employed both before and later. In Mr. Arber's Eng- 
lish Garner (I, pp. 74, 128, 460, and 651) will be found several parallels. 
Sedley's song in Bellamira beginning, " When first I made love to my 
Chloris," gives us another. See Bullen's Musa Proterva, p. 84. Cf. 
also the third stanza of Carew's A Deposition in Love, p. 69, above, 
and a paper, Notes on Lyrical Poetry, by the editor, Modern Language 
Notes, April, 1899. 

109 13. I brought down great cannon-oaths, and shot a thousand 
... to the town. Thus imitated by Sedley : 



NOTES. 261 

Cannon-oaths I brought down 
To batter the town. 

Billets-doux hke small shot did ply her. 

109 31. Honor was there. Notice the emphasis produced by the 
trochee in place of the iambus. 

110 4. Still. Ever. Cf. 5 9, 33 12, 50 lo, 65 5i. 

112. Song. Cf. Herrick, To CEnofie,Qd. Hale, p. 8o. 

112 15. I 'm best resolved. I have found a solution. 

113. When the assault, etc. This is Milton's own heading, as 
appears in the Cambridge MS., the words "On his door when the city 
expected an assault " having been crossed out. This was in Novem- 
ber, 1642, when the withdrawal of the Parliamentary forces under 
Essex to Warwick after the indecisive skirmish of Edgehill left the 
road to the capital open to the forces of Charles. 

113 5. He can requite thee. Pattison cites several parallels, 
among them Shakespeare's ^i7;/«£'/r, Iv, Ixxxi; Drayton, Idea^ sonnet \\. 

113 5. Charms. Spells, magical effects. 

113 10. Emathian conqueror. Alexander. So called from Ema- 
thia, a district of Macedonia, the original seat of the Macedonian 
monarchy. 

113 10. Bid spare, etc. This story is told by Pliny, Hist. Nat., vii. 
29 ; .^lian, Var. Hist., xiii. 7, and many others. Pattison suggests 
that Milton had it from the Vita Pindari of Thomas Magister. 

113 13. Sad Electra's poet. Euripides. His tragedy 75"/^f/r« was 
produced during the period of the Sicilian expedition, 415-413 B.C. 
Euripides was a favorite author with Milton. 

113 14. To save the Athenian walls. " On the taking of Athens 
by the Lacedaemonians, 404 B.C., the leaders of the combined Greek 
forces deliberated as to how the city should be dealt with. The The- 
bans proposed to raze it to the ground and to turn the site into a sheep 
walk. While the decision was in suspense, on one occasion the gen- 
erals were at wine together, and it so happened a Phocian sang part of 
a chorus of the Electra, which begins : 

' Ay afj-efiuovos w Kopa, t]\v6ov k.t.\. {Electra, 167). 

Those present were so affected that they agreed it would be an un- 
worthy act to destroy a city which had produced such noble poets" 
(.^lian, Var. Hist., xiii. 7. Pattison). 

113. Steps to the Temple. So entitled in relation to The Temple 



262 NOTES. 

of George Herbert. Cf. The Preface, To the Reader : " Reader, we 
style his sacred poems, Steps to the Temple, and aptly, for in the temple 
of God, under his wing he led his life in Saint Mary's Church near 
Saint Peter's College ; there he lodged under Tertullian's roof of 
angels ; there he made his nest more gladly than David's swallow near 
the house of God, where like a primitive saint he offered more prayers 
in the night than others usually offer in the day : there he penned these 
poems, steps for happy souls to climb heaven by." These poems were 
then written before Crashaw's loss of his fellowship in 1643. 

114 5. Joy. Cf. 103 118. 

114 5. To all our world ... he slept. Cf. Shakespeare Grammar, 
§ 188 ; we still say : " Dead to the world." 

114 21. Thy day . . . did rise, etc. A common figure in the erotic 
verse of the time. Cf. Carew, 70 16 ; Davenant, 184 19, and the note 
thereon. 

115 38. Starry. Celestial ; a favorite word with Milton. 

115 44. Contest. For the accent, cf. Shakespeare Grainmar, § 490. 
115 46. Phoenix'. Cf. 74 18. 

115 48. Embraves. Makes beautiful. 

116 60. For well they now can spare their wing. A typical con- 
ceit of the school to which Crashaw belongs. 

116 78. Welcome. Though born neither to gold nor to silk, thou art 
born to more than the birthright of Cassar. 

116 80. Two sister seas. This stanza is one of those — too fre- 
quent in Crashaw — in which the stroke of wing fails, and the song falls 
earthward. 

117 84-89. This stanza is omitted in the Paris edition of 1652. See 
Introduction to this volume, p. xxxi. 

117 89. Points. Cf. 121 21, and Donne, The Ecstasy: 

Our eye-beams twisted and did thread 
Our eyes upon one double string. 

117 92. Slippery souls in smiling eyes. Notice the alliteration 
and the correspondence of sound in smiling and eyes. 

117 93. Shepherds' homespun things. This is the reading of 
Grosart. 

117 93. Homespun. Cf. Shakespeare's conversion of this adjective 
into a noun. Midsummer Night's Dream, iii. i • 79 : " hempen homespuns." 

118 8. Silver mate. Cf. silver doves above, and Psalms, LXVIII, 

118 8. Rise up, my love. Cf. Solomon's Song, II, 10-14. 



NOTES. 263 

118 20. Or quickly would, wert thou once here. It is interesting 
to notice this classical thread — in allusion to the springing up of flow- 
ers about the footsteps of Spring — and the conceit, except so much 
[rain] as we detain in. needful tears, etc., below, woven into the glowing 
fabric of the old Hebraic poetry. 

120. " And those other of his pieces, intituled The Delights of the 
Muses, though of a more human mixture, are as sweet as they are inno- 
cent" {To the Reader, Crashaw, ed. 1646). 

120 3. Consults the conscious spheres. A popular belief in astrology 
was still prevalent in Crashaw's day. The poets are full of such allu- 
sions as these, 91 47, 98 17, 106 52. 

120 12. Love's fortune-book. The book of Love's fortune. 

121 17. Love's native hours were set. However the horoscope of 
the natal hours of Love was arranged. 

121 18. Starry synod. Assemblage of stars; the position of the 
planets with reference one to the other determined the particulars of 
the horoscope. 

121 21. Sharp rays, putting on points. Her glances. Cf. Cra- 
shaw's use of the word point, above. Cf. 117 88. 

121 25. Aspects. The aspect was " the relative position of the 
heavenly bodies as they appear to an observer on the earth's surface at 
a given time" (Murray). Here aspects is almost equivalent to influ- 
ences. 

121 25. Twined, etc. " United to give a combined influence which 
was extremely favorable." Cf. Donne, The Ecstasy, quoted above, 
117 88. 

121 33. Influence. Cf. 106 53. 

121 36. Black. The color of evil. Cf. 128 16. 

122 52. Love shall live, although he die. This subtly varied refrain 
finds its original in Donne. Cf. his Lover^s Infiniteness, Lovers Infnite- 
ness, The Will, The Prohibition. 

Vll. Sonnet. The lady to whom this sonnet is addressed is not 
known. Philips mentions a Miss Davis, whom Milton thought of 
marrying when deserted by his first wife ; and Pattison quotes a sug- 
gestion " that the virtues celebrated in these lines were those which 
Milton would have sought for in a wife." Pattison continues of this 
sonnet : " Imagery here is the hackneyed biblical allusion ; the thought 
commonplace ; the language ordinary ; yet it will hardly be denied that 
the effect is impressive. ... It is due to the sense that here is a true 
utterance of a great soul." 

122 2. The broad way. Matthew, VII, 13. 



264 NOTES. 

122 2. And the green. Because a green way is a pleasant one. 
Cf. // Fenseroso, 66 ; U Allegro, 58, and Shelley's sonnet beginning : 
" Ye hasten to the dead." 

122 5. Ruth. The perfect rhyme was not regarded as a blemish in 
Milton's day. 

122 6. Overween. A favorite word with Milton, Paradise Lost, x. 
878 ; Paradise Regained, i. 147, etc. 

122 11. Hope that reaps not shame. Roma^is, V, 5. 

122 12. Feastful. Cf. Samson Agonistes, 1741. 

123. To Phyllis. This poem appears in Wit 's Recreations and was 
set to music in Vldiyiord's Select Airs and Dialogues, 1659. I hesitate 
to assign a date to any of Waller's lyrics, although this may have 
been written as early as 1639, considering its position in the earlier 
editions of his poems. Waller was much given to repolishing and 
filing his verses that they might conform to the poetical standards 
which prevailed after the Restoration — standards the setting up of 
which he was especially emulous to have generally believed to have 
been of his devising. 

123. On a Girdle. This poem appeared first in an appendix to the 
second ed. of 1645. ^^ ^'^^ probably written not long before that date. 

124 5. It was. Is in the ed. of 1645, where the present tense is 
kept up through the poem. 

124 11, 12. The ed. of 1645 ^^ads : 

Give me but what this riband tied. 
Take all the sun goes round beside. 

See also the Introduction, p. xxviii f. 

. 124 9. Thyrsis'. " Thyrsis, a youth of the inspired train"; the 
name assumed by Waller in his poetical courtship of Saccharissa. See 
The Story of Phcehis and Daphne Applied, Drury's Waller, p. 52. 

125 1. Go, lovely rose. This famous lyric, which it seems to me has 
been somewhat overrated, appears also in Wit''s Recreations, followed 
by two other poems on the same subject — one of them Waller's, 
entitled (in his works) The Bud; the other Herrick's, entitled (in the 
Hesperides) To the Rose, Song. The first stanza runs : 

Go, happy rose, and interwove 
With other flowers bind my love. 
Tell her too, she must not be 
Longer peevish, longer free, 
That so long hath fettered me. 



NOTES. 265 

The resemblance is only superficial. In Mr. Drury's Waller will be 
found a number of other parallels. The fact that these poems of 
Herrick and Waller occur towards the end of Wit's Recreatiofts, inter- 
mixed with verse of Sir Edward Sherburne, whose volume of poetry, 
Salmacis, Lyria?i, and Sylvia, appeared first in 1651, makes it likely 
that all were collected into a late edition of Wit 's Recreations, probably 
that of 1654. 

125 7. Graces spied. Mr. Gosse {From Shakespeare to Pope, p. 60) 
finds these syllables " drag painfully on the tongue " and remembers 
" to have heard the greatest living authority on melodious numbers 
[Tennyson ?] suggest that Waller must have Written graces eyed.'" 
He adds: "The first edition of 1645, however, has, by an obvious 
misprint, grace spy'd.'^ The reprint of Wit's Recreations reads graces 
spy'd ; Fenton reads as in the text. If another conjecture may be 
made, may not Waller have written grace espied? 

126 7. Thetis' streams. The ocean. 

126. Fie on Love. I have preferred the longer and more finished 
version of this poem, which appears in Goffe's Careless Shepherdess, 
1656. A shorter version is found in Shirley s Poems, 1646. I have no 
hesitation in assigning the lines to Shirley ; they are much in his man- 
ner. Cf . note on Love's Hue and Cry, above, p. 6. 

126. Henry Vaughan, the Silurist, so called by his contemporaries 
from his birth among the people of South Wales, entered Jesus College, 
Oxford, in 1638. Both Henry and his brother Thomas were zealous 
in the royal cause, although the poet does not seem to have borne 
arms. Vaughan had a glimpse of the last of the great age preceding. 
He knew Randolph and venerated Jonson, though he could hardly 
have met him personally. This contact with literary London inspired 
Vaughan's first work, Poems, with the Tenth Satire of Juvenal Eng-' 
lished. Olor Iscanus, a second book of secular poems and translations, 
appeared without the author's sanction in 1651. 

127 19. Sense. Senses, perceptions. Cf. 36 9, 37 30, 94 5. 

127 22. Element. Compose, make up their love. A favorite word 
of Donne's. Cf. his Upon Parting froju his Mistress, Elizabethan Lyrics, 
102 16. 

127. The Inconstant. This poem was prompted by Donne's Lndif- 
ferent, to which it is as inferior as the flippancy of persiflage is inferior 
to imaginative cynicism. There is a clever mock poem on the same 
topic, having Donne's title and Cowley's treatment, in Alexander 
Brome's Works, Chalmers's English Poets, VI, p. 645. 

127 5. Devil. Monosyllabic here, as frequently. Cf . the Scotch deil. 



266 NOTES. 

127 6. Legion. Trisyllabic. Cf. 37 20, 75 4, 121 26. 

128 13. Proper. Handsome. 

128 16. Black. Cf. Shakespeare's Sonnet, cxlvii, where there is a 
play on the meaning of black as the color of evil. Cf. 121 36, 134 13. 

128 30. The man [that] loves. Cf. 1 2, 4 6, 9 2, 94 9. 

129. Thomas Stanley, remembered for his work in the history of 
philosophy, was also a poet in his youth, publishing several volumes, 
chiefly of translation, between 1647 and 1651. Stanley's poetical work 
seems to have belonged wholly to his college days. Poems and Ty-ans- 
lations is the first of Stanley's volumes of poetry. Much of this volume 
is reprinted with slight variation in the subsequent ones. 

129. The Tomb. I prefer the shorter and apparently revised 
version of this poem which appeared in Poems by T. S., 1651. 

129 20. As thine. As thy sacrifice. 

130. The Relapse. Thispoemisentitledsimply^^w^^intheed. of 1647. 

130 7. Fall. The reading of the ed. of 1651 ; the earlier ed. reads wd-w^. 

131. Richard Lovelace is described in his youth, by Wood, as 
" being then accounted the most amiable and beautiful person that 
ever eye beheld, ... of innate modesty, virtue, and courtly deport- 
ment." Lovelace was educated at Oxford and distinguished himself 
at court and in the field. He was twice imprisoned and ultimately 
wasted his entire fortune "in useless attempts to serve his sovereign." 
He died in poverty. There seems no particular reason for supposing 
that Lucasta [lux casta) was a real person, Lucy Sacheverell, as does 
Wood; or that Lovelace, after his loss of Lucasta, married Althea. 
Lovelace has been variously estimated as " a mere reckless improvisa- 
tore'" and as "the most fastidious of the concettists." Many of his 
minor lyrics fall into utter unintelligibility and into a slovenhness of 
style not to be accounted for by mere corruptness of text. 

131 1. If to be absent. Cf. the idea of absence not a separation 
but an etherealization of passion, in Donne's Song beginning : " Soul's 
joy, now I am gone," Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, Ode, ed. Bullen, 
I, 117; Shirley's To his Mistress Confiiicd, ed. Dyce, VI, 409; Carew, 
To my Mistress in Absence, reprint of 1824, p. 27 ; all perhaps ultimately 
referable to the Symposiu?n of Plato. The following stanza of Cart- 
wright well sets forth the contemporary estimate of " Platonic love " : 

Tell me no more of minds embracing minds, 

And hearts exchanged for hearts ; 
That spirits' spirits meet as winds do winds 

And mix their subtlest parts ; 
That two embodied essences may kiss, etc. 



NOTES. 261 

The song of the text was set by Lawes and appears in his Airs and 
Dialogues, 1 653-1 658. 

132 10. Blow-god. Aeolus the wind god. Explained as Neptune 
by Mr. Palgrave, with the reading bliie-god. The original reads blew-god. 

132 18. Greet as angels greet. Cf. Donne's The Ecstacy and Air 
and Angels, and Carew's To my Mistress in Absence. 

132 1. Tell me not, sweet. " Suckling's inconstancy and Love- 
lace's constancy," says Mr. Saintsbury, " may or may not be equally 
poetical. , . . The songs remain, and remain yet unsurpassed, as the 
most perfect celebrations, in one case of chivalrous devotion, in the 
other of the coxcomb side of gallantry, that literature contains or is 
likely to contain" {Elizabethan Literature, p. 376). 

133 1. Amarantha. This song appears in Lawes' Airs and Dia- 
logues, 1653, and likewise in Colgrave's Wit''s Inte^'preter, 1655. ■'■ 
follow Lawes in presenting but two stanzas. 

133 2. Ah braid no more. Lawes reads Forbear to braid. 

133 4. 'T was last night, etc. Cf . Donne's Woman's Constancy : 

Now thou hast loved me one whole day, 
Tomorrow, when thou leav'st, what wilt thou say ? 

and Suckling's Constancy, above, p. 11 1. 

134 13. Black. Cf. 128 I6. 

134 15. Un-plowed-up. Wit's Interpreter, ed.. i662,xe2ids, ujtbidden. 

134 17. She. Cf. 99 2 and 182 10. 

134. To Althea from Prison. This famous song is set to music by 
John Wilson in his Cheerful Airs or Ballads, 1660. 

134 5. Tangled in her hair. Cf. Peele's David and Bethsabe, i. i, 
ed. Morley, p. 85, and Lycidas, 69. 

134 7. Gods. The original reading. There is no authority for 
birds, the usual reading. 

134 10. Thames. A familiar classicism. Cf. yEneid, i. 472 : 

Priusquam 
Pabula gustassent Trojae Xanthumque bibissent. 

135 17. Like committed linnets. The usual reading. When linnet- 
like co7ifinid, I, is a refinement of Bishop Percy, which I am surprised 
to find Mr. Saintsbury accepting without comment in his Seventeenth 
Century Lyrics. Cf. with this whole poem an imitation, sufficiently 
base, by Thomas Weaver, in his Songs and Poems of Love and Drollery, 
Beloe's Anecdotes, VI, 88. 



268 • NOTES. 

135. Thomas Forde, the dramatist, not to be confused with the 
musician Thomas Ford or the more famous dramatist John Ford, 
is described as a "staunch and pious royahst." Forde wrote several 
moral pamphlets and emulated his friend's, James Howell's, Fa77iiliar 
Letters in his Fcenestra in Pectore. Love's Labyrinth is a dramatization 
of Greene's Menaphon. 

136. To Perilla. The grave beauty of this poem is beyond praise. 
Professor Hale w-rites thus in the Introduction to his ed. of Herrick, 
p. xxxvi : *' To Herrick the two greatest things of life were Love and 
Death, — and his mind turned constantly to the thought of one or the 
other. And finding in his own religion no true satisfaction for his 
whole feeling, it would really seem as though he had sometimes fancied, 
half-seriously, half in sport, a strange cult of imaginary deities in the 
ritual of whose service, had it ever existed, he might have found a satis- 
faction which was given him nowhere else." 

136 7. First cast in salt. These rites are imaginary and pictur- 
esque rather than founded upon actual folklore. See, however. Brand's 
Popular Aiitiquities, ed. 1813, II, 203, 484. 

136 18. Still in the cool and silent shades of sleep. One of the 
most beautiful lines in our literature. 

137. His Poetry his Pillar. Cf. with this The Pillar of Fame, the 
last poem of the Hesperides. 

138. Jasper Mayne, Archdeacon of Chichester, and dramatist, wrote 
much occasional verse, some of which is to be found in Jonsonus 
Virbius and prefixed to the second folio ed. of Beaumont and Fletcher, 
1679. Mayne gave up poetry in middle life. The lyric of the text is 
by far the best of his shorter poems. 

140. Crashaw's volume Carmen Deo Nostro was published in Paris, 
with fine plates, said to be of the poet's own designing. See An Epi- 
gram, Turnbull's Crasha^u, p. 145. 

140. James Graham, Marquess of Montrose, for a time the great 
military stay of Charles in Scotland, was finally defeated and gave up 
his life in the royal cause a year after the execution of his royal master. 
" The great Marquess's verses," says Mr. Saintsbury, commenting upon 
the poem of the text, " are amateurish beyond all doubt, and the present 
piece is defaced by the political flings at ' synods ' and ' committees.' 
But the root of the matter is in it " {Seventeenth Century Lyrics, p. 311). 
The few poems which Montrose has left — chief among them the 
well-knowTi epitaph on Charles I — will be found in the Appendix to 
Napier's Montrose and the Covenanters, ed. 1838, II, 566 et seq. See 
also Hannah's Courtly Poets, p. 203. 



NOTES. 269 

142. Phineas Fletcher, the author of The Purple Island, was the 
son of Dr. Giles Fletcher, who wrote the sonnet sequence Licia. John 
Fletcher, the dramatist, was Phineas' first cousin, and Giles the younger, 
author of Christ'' s Victory and Triumph, his brother. The list of poet- 
ical Fletchers is completed with the name of Dr. Joseph Fletcher, who 
appears not to have been related to John and Phineas. The earlier 
lyrics of Phineas, some of great merit, fall before our period. See Dr. 
Grosart's ed. of Fletcher's work. 

142 17. Shades fill into substance. 

143 30. He, he thy end. It is a pity that so fine a poem should be 
blemished by an obscurity, apparently easily to be remedied. 

143. Silex Scintillans. It is one of the strange vicissitudes that 
seem to rule even in literature, that Herbert, in his own age, as since, 
has enjoyed a wider popularity than either of his greater disciples, 
Crashaw and Vaughan. The titles of these poems are Vaughan's 
own. 

143. The Retreat. This fine poem courts comparison with Words- 
worth's great Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of 
Early Childhood, and our interest becomes only the greater when 
we learn on the authority of Archbishop Trench that " Wordsworth had 
a copy of Silex Scintillans and that it bore many marks of earnest use " 
(Grosart's Vanghan, II, Ixiv). 

143 1. Happy those early days. Cf. with this and the following 
lines these verses from Coj-riiption, ed. Lyte, p. 86 : 

Sure it was so. Man in those early days 

Was not all stone and earth ; 
He shined a little, and by those weak rays 

Had some glimpse of his birth. 
He saw heaven o'er his head, and knew from whence 

He came, condemned, hither, 
And, as first love draws strongest, so from hence 

His mind sure progressed thither ; 

an even closer reminder of the great Ode (Grosart). 

143 2. Angel-infancy. Infancy pure as angels. 

144 26. City of palm-trees. Jericho, often so called. Qi. II Chron- 
icles, XXVIII, 15. 

144 17. Ranges. Wanderings. 

145 1. Since in a land, etc. Since my lot is fallen in a land not 
ever barren, etc. 

145. The World. This poem is followed by this quotation in the 
original. It seems fitting that more than the reference be given here • 



270 NOTES. 

" For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the 
eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. 

"And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he that 
doeth the will of God abideth forever" {I John, II, i6, 17). 

145 2. Like a great ring. Cf. with this sublime image Rossetti's 
conception of space, The Blessed Damozel : 

Beneath the tides of day and night 
With flame and darkness ridge 
The void ; 

and further on : 

She saw 
Time like a pulse shake fierce 
Through all the world (Grosart). 

146 30. As free. As freely as he would have drunk had it not 
rained tears and blood. 

146 31. Fearful. Timorous. 

146 34. Above. In heaven. 

147 38. Downright. Out in out. 

147 40. While others, who had slipped into excess, said little less 
than the epicure. 

147 43. Think them brave. The present here used to express the 
habit of thinking such trivial things beautiful and worth having. 

147 44. And is almost antithetical here; and meanwhile Truth sate, 
etc. 

147 1. I walked the other day. Cf. with this stanza Herrick's To 
Meadows, above, p. 79. 

148 14. Bower. An inner or private room, hence a place of hiding 
or protection. 

148 21. Of us unseen. Cf. Shakespeare Grammar, § 170. 

148 23. Strow. Spread apart for the purpose of considering ; here 
equal to ponder. 

150. Andrew Marvell, son of the Master of Kingston-upon-Hull 
Grammar School, received a sound education, which he improved by 
foreign travel. He is said to have founded his lifelong friendship for 
Milton while at Rome. Nearly all the lyrical and lighter poems of Mar- 
vell belong, according to general opinion, to the years which he spent in 
travel and as tutor to the daughter of the famous parliamentary general, 
Lord Fairfax. It was early in 1652 that Marvell was recommended by 
Milton for the post of Assistant Latin Secretary ; and although he did 
not obtain the appointment until later, he had evidently left his seclu- 



NOTES. 271 

sion for public life. Marvell's after career, as the daring and incorrupt- 
ible satirist of Charles II and his dissolute life, does not concern us 
here. As a poet and as a man Marvell was worthy the friendship of 
Milton. 

150 22. Curious frame [of flowers]. Cf. above, v. 7 : 

The fragrant towers 
That once adorned our shepherdess's head. 

150 24. Set. Arranged. 

151. Bermudas. These islands were settled in the first quarter of 
the seventeenth century by settlers from England, who fled, like the 
Pilgrim Fathers, to escape the tyranny which led to the Rebellion. 

151 23. Apples. Pineapples. 

152. Clorinda and Damon. Despite superficial matters of style 
there is an unaffectedness and genuine appreciation of nature in Marvell's 
little pastoral lyrics that takes us back through the long line of sophisti- 
cation to the pastorals of Greene, Breton, and Lodge. Nor does Mar- 
vell lose in this mode when compared with Dryden. 

152 2. Late. Lately. Grosart places a comma after late. 

152 5. Aim. " The use of the noun in sense of intent is common, 
and both are due to the (then) common practice of archery " (Dr. 
Nicholson in ed. Grosart, to whom I am indebted for several of the 
following notes). 

152 8. Vade. Pass away, perish, a by-form of fade. Cf. Shake- 
speare's Sonnets, xiv. 10 ; Richard II, i. 2. 20. 

153 14. Concave shell. Cave, hollow, out of which the fountain 
issues. Cf. Milton's "aery shell," Songixora Comtis, 39 2. 

155 13. Nest, and hence make their home. 

156 24. Lightfoot. Evidently a dog's name. 
156 28. Antedate. Anticipate. 

157. The Fair Singer. Dr. Grosart mentions what he calls " a 
grotesquely quaint anticipation" of this poem by one N. Hookes, 1653. 
The date makes it more probably an imitation. Four lines will suffice, 
and they are worth quoting for the truly original picture they present : 

Hark to the changes of the trembling air ! 
What nightingales do play in consort there ! 
See in the clouds the cherubs listen yon, 
Each angel with an otacousticon. 

It may be glossed that an otacousticon is an ear trumpet. 
159 29. Quaint. Nice ; perhaps here, out of place. 



272 . NOTES. 

159 40. Slow-chapt. Slowly devouring. " Cf. the substantive 
chap, the jaw, and also chop. The sense is : Let us devour Time in 
our joys, rather than by your coyness languish in his slow-devouring 
jaws" (Nicholson), 

159. T. C. The name of the subject of this charming poem has not 
come down to us. Dr. Nicholson suggests, in a pencil note in Grosart's 
ed. : "Evidently some one born in a commanding position ; but I can find 
no Cromwell nor Claypole to correspond." Mr. Palgrave remarks of the 
poem : " Delicate humor, delightfully united to thought at once simple 
and subtle. It is full of conceit and paradox, but these are imaginative, 
not as with most of our Seventeenth Century poets, intellectual only " 
{Golden Treasury of English Lyrics, p. 357). 

159. Prospect. View, landscape. 

159 4. Aspect. Look, perhaps involving the astrological meaning 
of the influence or effect of a planet upon men's fortunes. 

160 22. But more despise. Only the more despise those that yield. 

160 38. Make th' example yours. " Act in your case in accord- 
ance with the example which you set (in plucking the buds) " (Kit- 
tredge). 

160 39. Ere we see [them], i.e., our hopes. 

161 5. Comets. As to the portentous nature of comets in the 
vulgar estimation of the day, see i Henry IV, i. i. 10 ; Julius Ccesar, ii. 
2. 30. 

161 7. Higher. The reading of the ed. of 1681. Later editions 
read other. 

161 9. Officious. Office-doing, dutiful. 

161 1. Survey. Map, plot. 

162 15. Gaudy. Here in both the modern sense of bright-colored 
and with the older meaning, joyful. 

162 19. Ought. Ought to have done. 

162 26. Companions of my thoughts more green. Cf. Marvell's 
beautiful poem The Garden : 

Annihilating all that 's made 

To a green thought in a green shade. 

163. Sir Edward Sherburne held for many years a place in the 
office of ordnance. He endured many vicissitudes for his loyalty and 
his faith, losing at one time all his property and with it a valuable 
library of his own collecting. Sherburne was best known in his day as 
a translator and w'as intimate with Edward Philips, the nephew of Mil- 
ton, who dedicated his Theatrum Poetarum to Sherburne and Sher- 



NOTES. 273 

burne's kinsman, Thomas Stanley. I find a graceful and agreeable 
strain in Sherburne's trifles, which seem not too much the echo of 
others, Sherburne has not been reprinted except in Chalmers, vol. VII. 
I take my text from the original ed. of 1651. Many of Sherburne's 
poems appear in the last two editions of Wit^s Recreations. 

164 3. Straight. Immediately. Cf. 98 6. 

165 .3. Captived. Captivated. 

165 5. Admire. Wonder at. 

166. Sonnet XVI. This sonnet was, like the one to General Fair- 
fax, not included in the edition of Milton's poems, 1673, t)ut ap- 
peared first as indicated in the title in the text. Philips made several 
changes which were necessary to the times. The Cambridge MS. has 
fortunately enabled subsequent editors to give the true version. In 
this MS. the poem bears the date May, 1652, and has also the additional 
heading " On the proposals of certain ministers at the Committee for 
Propagation of the Gospel." This shows that the sonnet is not to be 
regarded as Milton's expression of general admiration for Cromwell 
but "as a special appeal invoked by certain circumstances." The com- 
mittee of the Rump Parliament, alluded to above, had proposed " that 
the preachers should receive a public maintenance " (Pattison). 

166. Cromwell. Cf. Milton's eulogistic review of the character 
and services of Cromwell, in the Second Defense^ Prose Works., ed. Bohn, 
I, 282-291. 

166 1. Our chief of men. " In respect of his personal qualities and 
thorough going liberality of opinion, and not merely as the foremost man 
in the Commonwealth " (Pattison). 

166 1. A cloud. Cf. ^neid, x. 809. 

166 5. On the neck. Cf. Genesis, XLIX, 8 ; Joshua, X, 24, etc., 
one of the Biblical phrases formally employed in the common speech 
of the day. 

166 7. Darwen. A stream near Preston, where Cromwell defeated 
the Scotch, August, 1648. Dunbar, in which the Scotch were routed, 
was in September, 1650. Worcester, a year later, witnessed the com- 
plete defeat of Charles, who had invaded England to avenge his father's 
death. 

166 10. Peace hath her victories. Pattison refers us to Ronsard, 
Sonnets Divers, v. 303, and Tennyson's Ode on the Death of the Duke of 
Wellington : 

For one so true 
There must be other, nobler work to do 
Than when he fought at Waterloo. 



274 NOTES. 

166 11. New foes. For a discussion of the contemporary cir- 
cumstances that seemed to Milton to justify these last lines, I must 
refer the student to Pattison's or Verity's ed. of Milton's Sonnets. 
That the vigor of this special application of the sonnet should have 
betrayed the poet, here alone, into a final couplet is but natural. In 
whatever light we may view this sonnet its conclusion offers an 
undoubted instance of the destruction of the universality of art by the 
infusion of a specific purpose. 

167. Cupid and Death, a Masque, was acted before the ambassa- 
dor of Portugal, March, 1653. The title of the song is Mr. Bullen's. 
This poem may be well compared with its companion in the same tone : 
" The glories of our blood and state." See above, p. 89. 

167 1. Avenge, Lord. This sonnet was called forth by the suffer- 
ings of the Vaudois, or Waldenses, against whom the Duke of Savoy 
sent an armed force, upon their refusal to conform to the Church, April, 
1655. The excesses of this expedition filled the Protestant world with 
horror, and Cromwell himself declared that it " came near his heart as 
if his own nearest and dearest had been concerned." On the subject, 
see Pattison's Life of Milton, p. 126. 

167 1. Whose bones lie scattered. Cf. Tenure of Kings, Milton's 
Prose Works, II, 19. 

167 2. On the Alpine mountains cold. Cf. Propertius, i. 21. 9 ; and 
Fairfax' Tasso, xiii. 60, where the very words occur. 

167 3. Who kept thy truth. Milton speaks later of the Vaudois 
as " those ancientest reformed churches of the Waldenses — if they 
rather continued not pure since the apostles" {The Likeliest Means to 
Remove Hirelings ojct of the Chtirch, Prose Works, III, 16. Verity.). 

167 4. Worshipped stocks and stones. \xv\{\'s,\.xz.z\.oxiTrzie Religion, 
1659, Milton "lays down that the reason for excepting Popery from gen- 
eral toleration is solely because it is idolatrous " {Prose Works, II, 514)- 

168 7. That rolled mother and infant. This incident is related 
as a fact by Sir William Moreland, Cromwell's agent in Piedmont, in 
his account of the massacre published in 1658. 

168 10. Their martyred blood and ashes sow. " Plures efficimur, 
quoties metimur a vobis ; semen est sanguis Christianorum," Tertullian, 
Apologia, 50 (Pattison). 

168 12. The triple Tyrant. The Pope, in allusion to his tiara sur- 
rounded with three crowns. 

168 13. Who. Those who. 

168 14. Babylon was Rome to the Puritans. Cf. the Babylon of 
the Apocalypse. 



NOTES. 275 

16S. On his Blindness. This sonnet is usually, but conjecturally, 
assigned to the year 1655. Milton's eyesight had been long failing, 
and he became totally blind about March, 1652. His steady per- 
sistence in writing his Defensio pro populo Aitglicano contra Salmasium 
hastened this calamity. Not the least merit of this noble sonnet is its 
freedom from the note of complaint and repining. Cf. with this a pas- 
sage from a letter of Milton's to Philaras, quoted by Pattison {Sonnets, 
p. 205), and also Paradise Lost, vii. 27, and Samson Agonistes, 80. 

168 3. One talent. Cf. Matthew, XXV, 14. 

168 8. Fondly. Foolishly. 

168 12. Thousands of angels. Cf. Christian Doctrine, i. 9, and 
Paradise Lost, iv. 677. 

168 13. Post. Q-i. Julius Ccesar,\\\. \. 2'^']. 

168 14. Stand. Cf. Daniel, VII, 10, and Luke, I, 19. 

169 1. They are all gone into the world of light. These words 
recall Lamb's beautiful refrain, " All, all are gone, the old familiar 
faces." The two poems are, however, very different. The title is not 
in the original ; Dr. Grosart's title is Beyond the Veil. 

169 7. Those faint beams . . . after the sun's remove. Cf. To 
A?Jioret, above, p. 126, where there is a more elaborate picture of this 
moment after sundown. 

169 10. Trample. Tread close upon, follow closely. 

169 21, He that hath found. Had Vaughan always written as he 
wrote in this and the following exquisite stanza, he need not have 
yielded to any of his contemporaries. 

169 25. And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams. Cf. Words- 
w^orth's Ode on the Intimations of Ijnmortality : 

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, 
The earth, and every common sight. 
To me did seem 
Apparelled in celestial light, 
The glory and the freshness of a dream. 

170 35. Resume. Take back again. 

170 38. Perspective. Accent on the first syllable, as in AWs Well, 
V. 3. 48, and commonly. 

170. The Throne. Cf. Revelation, XX, 11, Vaughan's own 
reference. 

171. Charles Cotton, the friend of Izaak Walton, is described as a 
very accomplished man, travelled, and devoted to literary pursuits, 
angling, and horticulture. Cotton appears to have been something of 



276 NOTES. 

a bon vivant, the marriage of two fortunes and his own large patrimony 
not sufficing to keep him out of debt. He is best known by his treatise 
on fly-fishing, published in 1676 as a Second Part to Walton's Complete 
Angler. Coleridge said of Cotton's poetry : " There are not a few 
poems in that volume, replete with every excellence of thought, image 
and passion, which w^e expect or desire in the poetry of the milder 
muse ; and yet so worded, that the reader sees no one reason either in 
the selection or the order of the words, why he might not have said the 
very same in an appropriate conversation, and can not conceive how 
indeed he could have expressed such thoughts otherwise, without loss 
or injury to the meaning" {Biographia Literaria, American ed., 1SS4, 
p. 436). 

171. Poems on Several Occasions, 1689. The text is from this 
posthumous volume, which was very carelessly collected, some poems 
appearing twice. Chalmers reprinted much of this volume in his Eng- 
lish Poets, 18 10. Cotton has escaped even the editorial assiduity of 
Dr. Grosart, and remains, except for his continuation of Walton, 
little known. 

171. Ode. Charles I surrendered in May, 1646, when Cotton was 
about sixteen years old. This song may have been WTitten before the 
execution of the king three years later ; it is more likely, however, that 
the final line refers to Charles II, then in exile. 

171 1. The day is set. The day, which adorned the earth, is set 
(i.e., the sun has set, but also is set, seated, like a man, at table) to 
drink, etc. 

171 8. For. Despite. 

172 1. Fair Isabel. Cotton married Isabella, daughter of Sir 
Thomas Hutchinson of Owthorp, in 1656. I place this poem shortly 
prior to that event. 

173. Miscellanies. Many of the poems of this division of Cow- 
ley's own folio of 1656 were written far earlier, especially the poems 
previously published under the titles Sylva and Poetical Blosso77is. 
Neither of the poems which follow appeared, as far as I can ascertain, 
before 1656. 

176 74. Matchavil. A shortening and corruption of Machiavel, an 
anglicized form of Macchiavelli, for generations regarded as the type of 
the arch-schemer. 

176 78. Holinshed or Stow. The well-known English chroniclers. 

176. Anacr6ontique. This is a sufficiently original version of the 
six lines, Ei's rh 8eip Triveip, ascribed to Anacreon, to deserve a place 
here. Cf. Cotton's less successful paraphrase. Poems, ed. 1689, p. 217. 



NOTES. Ill 

177. Henry King, bishop, of Chichester, was the friend of Sandys, 
James Howell, Izaak Walton, and Jonson. His elegy on the last is 
one of the best pieces of the memorial volume Jonsonus Virbius. 
There is nothing to determine the probable date of the writing of the 
little poem of the text, as King seems to have amused himself with 
poetry throughout his life. His elegies on Gustavus Adolphus and on 
Donne appeared as early as 1633. King's poetry, while often excel- 
lent, is very unequal. It has been much confused with the writings of 
Jonson, Beaumont, Corbet, and others. 

178. Henry Harrington. Of this Harrington I can find no word. 

178. On his Deceased Wife. This was Milton's second wife, Cata- 
rine Woodcock, whom he married Nov. 12, 1656. She died in child- 
birth, February, 1658, soon followed by her child. "Milton's private 
life, for eighteen years now," says Professor Masson, " had certainly 
not been a happy one ; but this death of his second wife seems to have 
been remembered by him ever afterwards with deep and peculiar sor- 
row. She had been to him during the short fifteen months of this 
union, all that he had thought saint-like and womanly, very sympathetic 
with himself, and maintaining such peace and order in his household as 
had not been there till she entered it" ij^ife of Milton, V, 382). Hallam 
refers by way of parallel to a sonnet by Bernadino Rota, beginning : " In 
lieto e pien di riverenza aspetto " (Pattison). 

178 2. Alcestis died for her husband, but was brought back to the 
world by Hercules, foveas great son. Cf. Alcestis, 1 136. Euripides was 
a favorite author of Milton's. 

178 5, 6. In allusion to the Mosaic ceremonies for purification after 
childbirth, Leviticus, XII. 

178 8. Full sight of her. Milton was already blind at the time of 
his second marriage. 

178 10. Her face was veiled, as was the face of Alcestis at first, 
when Hercules brought her back to her husband's presence (Verity). 

178 14. Night. His blindness. Qi. Paradise Lost, ^\\\. a,^Z. 

179. Thomas Flatman, the miniature painter, was a disciple of 
Cowley. This poem. For Thoughts, is the strongest piece of his work. 
It is reprinted by Mr. Bullen in his Musa Frotej-va. A fortunate 
chance which has brought into the possession of the library of the 
University of Pennsylvania a manuscript of several poems and songs of 
Flatman enables me to give the precise date. The version of this MS. 
differs in some particulars from Mr. Bullen's text, in almost every 
instance for the better. I have followed the MS., which is headed 
" Miscellanies by Tho : Flatman," and collated it with the third ed. of 



278 NOTES. 

1682, which presents a generally inferior text, though it may have had 
the revision of the author. 

179 11. The stupefying wine. The hemlock of the ancients. 

179 13. Trembling. Bullen reads j/^/z/^r/;z^, with the ed. of 1682. 

179 17. Magic. Ed. of 1682 reads enchantments. 

179 19. Awful. Ed. of 1682 omits this word. 

179 21. Brother and uncle to the stars and sun. Zeus, probably. 
The cosmogony of Flatman seems somewhat mixed. The phrase, 
however, is a fine one. 

179 22. Toys. Bullen reads y^jj, an evident misprint. 

179 27. My thoughts can eas'ly lay. Bullen and ed. of 1682 read 
My thoughts., i7iy thoughts can lay. 

180 30. Th' eleven orbs. According to a theory of the old astron- 
omy there were nine crystalline spheres or heavens, each revolving 
within the other and ranging from the sphere of the moon, which was 
nearest the earth, to the priimim mobile, the most remote. Some 
authors made out twelve heavens, adding to this last and the spheres 
of the seven planets the nonimi caelum and the decimum ccehtm, imme- 
diately within the primu7?i mobile^ and making the ca'liim etitpyrcEiim 
the outermost sphere of all. Throngh all the eleven orbs would then 
mean to the furthest limit of the heavens, as thought would pass 
through eleven orbs to reach the twelfth. 

ISO 30. Shove a way. Campbell, who includes this poem in his 
British Poets, reads away, with the ed. of 1682. 

180 31. My thoughts. Ed. of 1682 reads these, too. 

180 39. Huge. Ed. of 1682 reads rare ; glisters, in the next line, 
glimmers. 

180 42. There can I dwell [gaze] and 'live [glut] mine eyes. The 
words in brackets indicate the readings of ed. of 1682. 

180 51. Non-addresses. Apparently here equal to prohibition of 
intercotirse. 

181. A Wish. This is the title given this poem in the MS. men- 
tioned above. It is there dated Sept. 10, 1659. The previous poem 
bears date May 1 3 in the same year. A Wish is described as " set by 
Captain S. Taylor." 

181 2. Heads. Ed. of 1682 reads head. 

181 16. Whence the sun darts. Ed. of 1682 reads whence Phoebus 
darts. 

181 19. Ever. Ed. of 1682 reads never. 

182. Alexander Brome is described as " an attorney of London in 
the Civil Wars." He was the author of some plays published before 



NOTES. 279 

the Restoration, and appears, from verses prefixed to his Poems, to 
have been more or less intimate with Charles Cotton and Izaak Wal- 
ton. He begins a witty preface To the Reader by attributing his 
collection of his poems to laziness and a long vacation, " the one 
inclining me to do nothing else, and the other affording me nothing 
else to do." I take my text from the third edition, 1668. Brome's 
erotic verse is neither musical nor very original. His most character- 
istic productions are his Cavalier Songs, which have abundance of 
rough vigor, if little poetry, in them. 

182 10. A she. Cf. 99 2. 

182 11. The only argument. Cf. Wither's immortal " Shall I, 
wasting in despair " {Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 168). 

182 18. Stain, i.e., by comparison. Cf. Lyly's Song of Daphne in 
Midas : " My Daphne's beauty stains all faces." 

182 19. Shadows. This is the reading of the ed. of 1668 and 
of Chalmers. Mr. Saintsbury, Seventeenth Century Lyrics, reads 
shadow. 

183. Sir William Davenant was godson of Shakespeare, poet 
laureate preceding Dryden, dramatist, and author of the epic Gondibei't. 
His work is not without merit, but rarely rises above mediocrity. I 
cannot find anything beyond these two little poems in Davenant's 
bulky folio to serve my purposQ. 

184 1. The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest. Cf. Venus and 
Adonis, 853 : 

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest. 
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high. 

184 12. Draw your curtains, and begin the dawn. A common 
sentiment of the poets. Cf. Crashaw, 114 21, Carew, 70 16, and 
Herri ck, Upon Electra : 

When out of bed my love doth spring 

'T is but as day a-kindling ; 

But when she 's up and fully drest 

'T is then broad day throughout the east. 

184. Katherine Philips, whose maiden name w^as Fowler, gathered 
about her at her home in Cardigan, and on her visits to London, " a 
society of friendship, the members of w^hich were distinguished [after 
the manner of the romances of the day] by various fanciful names." 
Thus her husband was known as Antenor, she herself as Orinda, to 
which her admirers affixed the adjective " matchless." Her earUest work 
appeared in 1651, prefixed to the volumes of poems of Henry Vaughan 



280 NOTES. 

and William Cartwright. Most of her verses were published after 
her death ; they are largely devoted to friendship. We may agree with 
Mr. G. Thorn Drury, the writer of the article on this excellent lady in 
the Dictionary of National Biography, that " Orinda's fame as a poet 
[was] always considerably in excess of her merits." 

185. Sir William Killegrew was elder brother of the dramatists 
Henry and Thomas. He wrote several plays, all of them acted after 
the Restoration. His later work was chiefly devotional. 

186. Sir George Etheridge was the author of three comedies and 
much reputed for his wit. He was employed abroad as envoy to 
Hamburg and minister to Ratisbon, in which latter place he died. 

186. Song. This song was lengthened into a broadside ballad. 
Cf. Roxbnrghe Ballads, XVI, 133-135 (Bullen). 

186 10. His is Mr. Bullen's reading for this of the original. 

187. The Indian Queen was published as " written by the Honorable 
Sir Robert Howard," the brother-in-law of Dryden. Dryden not only 
touched up the whole play, but wrote large portions of it. The songs 
are in his manner. 

187 7. Zempoalla is the usurping Indian queen. 

187 8. On her dismal vision wait. After these words the queen 
impatiently interrupts the incantation, which then continues. 
187 9. Toad . . . adders'. Cf. Middleton's The Witch, v. 2: 

The juice of toad, the oil of adder, 
Those will make the younker madder. 

187 14. Clifts. Dryden uses this form of the word "cliff" else- 
where, Translatio7t of Persius, vi. 17. 

187 24. Use. Are accustomed to. 

188. "The Indian Emperor," says Scott, "is the first of Dryden's 
plays which exhibited, in a marked degree, the peculiarity of his style, 
and drew upon him the attention of the world." 

188 5. Does. Later ed. reads would. 

188 13. Fall, fall, fall. Cf. Jonson's lyric in Cynthia's Revels, i. 2 : 

Like melting snow upon some craggy hill. 
Drop, drop, drop, drop. 

188. Sir Charles Sedley led the usual dissipated life of his age. 
He is thus distinguished as a wit from his two great rivals by Bishop 
Burnet : " Sedley had a more sudden and copious wit, which furnished 
a perpetual run of discourse ; but he was not so correct as Lord Dorset, 



NOTES. 281 

nor so sparkling as Lord Rochester " {History of His Own Time, I, 
372). Sedley appears to have become somewhat less frivolous in later 
life, and took sides against the Stuarts at the Revolution. I read from 
the collected ed. of Sedley's Works, lyyS. 

188. The Mulberry Garden is described by Ward as " partly founded 
on Moliere's HEcole des Maris''' The title of this lyric is given in the 
play a few lines above the poem. Cf. a very different treatment of a 
similar theme by Marvell, The Picture of Little T. C in a Prospect of 
Flozuers, p. 159, above. 

190 7. I only care. I care alone. Cf. 199 6. 

191 22. Joy. Bliss in some editions, with a change of the fourth 
line of the stanza to " No less inhuman is." This version concludes 
with an additional stanza, which is no gain to the poem. 

191 6. Knotted. Knotting was a kind of fancy work similar to 
lace making. See Ashton's Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne, 
I, 17. 

192 1. Phyllis, men say. There is an amplification of the last 
stanza of this song in most editions of Sedley. This destroys the 
unity of the poem, as the addition is distinctly inferior. 

193. Tyrannic Love is one of the most characteristic of the heroic 
plays of Dryden ; A71 Evening 'j- Love, largely a translation from various 
sources, is a very vivacious comedy. 

194. You Charmed Me. The simplicity, directness, and choice 
diction of this little song show the master hand of a strong poet. 

194. John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, is thus tersely described by 
Waipole : " A man whom the Muses were fond to inspire and ashamed 
to avow ; and [who] practised, without the least reserve, that secret 
which can make verses more read for their defects than their mer- 
its " {Noble Authors, II, 43). Rochester died at thirty-two a ruined 
debauchee. The text is from the ed. of 1680. 

195 8. That tears, etc. In later editions : " That tears my fixed 
heart from love." 

195 11. Where love, etc. A later reading is: "Where love, and 
peace, and honor flow." 

196. Upon Drinking in a Bowl. A spirited paraphrase of the song 
ascribed to Anacreon, Ets iroT-qpiov dpyvpovv. Rochester has delight- 
fully enlarged upon the Greek : '* Deepen the cup as much as you 
can {6<xov dvvT] ^ddvvov)," to suggest " vast toasts on the delicious lake, 
like ships." 

196 11. Maestrick was captured by the French under Louis XIV 
and Vauban in July, 1673. The English were his allies in this war. 



282 NOTES. 

Evelyn, in his Diary under date of August 21, 1674, describes an 
out-of-door tableau at Winsor, in the meadow, showing the Siege of 
Maestricht. I do not identify the allusion to Yarmouth leaguer. 

196 15. Sir Sidrophel is the name of the astrologer in the Second 
Part of Htcdibras^ Canto iii, the argument to which begins thus : 

The Knight, with various doubts possest, 
To win the Lady goes in quest 
Of Sidrophel the Rosycrucian, 
To know the Dest'nies' resolution. 

William Lilly, a famous almanac maker of the day, was Butler's original. 
Ten years later the satirist applied the name to a member of the Royal 
Society who was pleased to doubt Butler's authorship of Hudibras. 

197 8. Will still love on. This phrase and the corresponding 
phrase of the next stanza is repeated in the original, probably owing to 
the demands of some popular melody to which it was set. 

197 13. His smart. His is a later reading; the ed. of 1680 reads 
this. 

198 2. Things, may melt. Things that may melt. Cf. 1 2. 

199 6. Are only free. Alone are free. Cf. 190 7. 

200. Aphara, Aphra or Afra Behn, whose maiden name was John- 
son, was the first woman in England to make authorship a profession. 
She wrote a great deal and succeeded as a dramatist, a writer of stories 
and other prose. Despite the fact that she " trod the boards loosely," 
in the manner of her age, some of the works of Mrs. Behn are not 
without merit. This is especially true of her story Oroonoko, a book 
which exhibits many sentiments which forebode Rousseau, and courts, 
from its subject, a comparison with Uncle Tojii's Cabin. 

200. Abdelazer, a tragedy, is a rifacimento of Marlowe's Lust''s 
Dofninion. The text is from Plays Written by the Late Ingenious Mrs. 
Behn, 1724. This poem appears also in The Loyal Garland, ed. 1686, 
and elsewhere. 

201. Troilus and Cressida is one of Dryden's several quarryings in 
the works of Shakespeare and Milton. The anapaestic movement of 
this little lyric is worthy of note. Cf. Rochester's Sojig {Poems, ed. 
1680, p. 43) : 

To this moment a rebel, I throw down my arms ; 

and, far earlier, Uavenant's irregular Wake all the dead, Saintsbury's 
Seventeenth Century Lyrics, p. 113. 

201. Horace Walpole says of Dorset : " He was the finest gentle- 



NOTES. 283 

man of the voluptuous court of Charles II, and in the gloomy one of 
King William. He had as much wit as his first master, or his con- 
temporaries, Buckingham and Rochester, without the royal want of 
feeling, the duke's want of principles, or the earl's want of thought " 
{Noble Authors, II, 96). The lyrics of Dorset are found only in collections 
and miscellanies. While it is impossible accurately to determine the 
time of the writing of his poems, the range of his activity as an author 
certainly extends from soon after the Restoration to the death of 
Charles. There is a piece addressed to Dorinda, who has been identi- 
fied with Catherine Sedley, Countess of Dorchester, bearing date 1680. 
His most famous poem, the Song, Written at Sea, bears date 1665. 

202 7. Blackguard boy. Linkboy. 

202 1. Phyllis, for shame. This song, so far as I can ascertain, 
did not appear in print until 1700, in the collection Works of Celebrated 
Authors of whose Writings there are but Small Remains. 

203. The Spanish Friar was what was known as a Protestant play. 
This was not the only instance in which Dryden diverted his genius 
into the paths of applied drama. 

204. The Duke of Guise, a play of palpable political import, was 
the joint work of Dryden and Nathaniel Lee. This song is certainly 
Dryden's. In Scott's edition, as revised by Saintsbury, the original 
music is given. 

204 9. Cordial. Anything which invigo/lftes ; used elsewhere by 
Dryden in this general sense. Cf . " Charms to my sight and cordials 
to my mind." 

205. John Norris, rector of Bemerton, was a student of Platonism, 
a disciple of Malebranche, and a voluminous author. His poems have 
been collected and published by Dr. Grosart in his Fuller Worthies^ 
Miscellanies. The Hymn to Darkness is Norris' best poem, and that 
is improved by Mr. Palgrave's judicious curtailing, a process which the 
plan of this book will not permit. See the Golden Treasury of English 
Lyrics, p. 1 28, where the poem is described as " a lyric of a strange, 
fanciful, yet solemn beauty ; Cowley's style intensified by the mysticism 
of Henry More." 

205 9. This monument. The world, explains Mr. Palgrave. 

207. The Morning Quatrains. This poem, with its companions, 
Noon Quatrains, Evening, and Night, has a charming naturalness in 
description not common in the poetry of Cotton's contemporaries. 

208 21. Xanthus and -Sithon, the horses of the sun. 

208 36. Humanity in the Latin sense of kindliness towards others, 
civility. 



284 NOTES, 

208 44. Imprime. Here evidently an early song. Prime was the 
first canonical hour of prayer. I have not found this word elsewhere. 

209 49. Repairs. The original xe2ids prepares. 

209 55. Purlieus. Here in the more original sense of the borders 
of the wood. 

209 65. Slick. Sleek. 

210. Rondeau. Cotton is interesting for his practice of the ron- 
deau, a French form not imitated in English literature, at least by a 
poet of respectable rank, from Wyatt to Cotton or (with the solitary 
exception of the examples of that group of political satirists who are 
responsible for the Rolliad, 1784, and its successors) from Cotton to 
the general revival of interest in French forms a few years since. 
Cotton translated many books from the French, with the literature of 
which country he was much at home. It is not easy to select from 
Cotton, because of what Mr. Saintsbury has justly called " his curious 
blend of thoroughly poetical conception with imperfect poetical execu- 
tion." Moreover, not a few of the poems of Cotton, which rank highest 
poetically, are unquotable to-day. I could scarcely venture to include 
all the poems for which Mr. Saintsbury finds a place in his Seventeenth 
Century Lyrics, and have thus been compelled to omit one of the 
most "quaint and pleasing." 

211 16. Rove. To shoot at rovers was to shoot at an irregular or 
uncertain mark. " Love is conceived as shooting at random, careless 
whom he hits." 

214 14. That. That which. 

214. The Lover's Watch, or the Art of making Love, being Rules 
Jor Courtship for Every Hour in the Day and Night, so runs the com- 
prehensive title of this tract of mingled verse and prose. The text of 
this little song is from the ed. of 1699. 

215. Love that Stronger art than Wine. Mr. Bullen raises the 
question, " Did Mrs. Behn write these fine verses ? " and he cites the 
fact that the poem was printed in the same year, 1687, in Henry Play- 
ford's fourth book of The Theater of Music, with these words at the 
end of the song: "These words by Mr. Ousley " {Musa Proterva, 
p. II). 

215 11. Learns a clown. This verb was commonly used transi- 
tively in the seventeenth century and earlier. Cf. Tempest, i. 2. 365. 

215 13. Free. Liberal. 
215 19. Finest. Refinest. 

216. Of the Last Verses. There is a transcript of these verses by a 
son of the poet, headed : " The last verses my dear father made " (Drury). 



NOTES. 285 

216. Saint Cecilia. The patron saint of musicians, martyred in 
the reign of Septimius Sevenis. In i6So a musical society was formed 
in London for the annual commemoration of St. Cecilia's day. " An 
ode, written for the occasion, was set to music by the most able pro- 
fessor, and rehearsed before the society and their stewards upon the 
22d November, the day dedicated to the patroness." Dryden's ode 
for the year 1687 was set to music "by Draghi, an eminent Italian 
composer." Further account of this ode, which has been perhaps 
unduly eclipsed by the more vivid qualities of Alexander'' s Feast, will 
be found in the Scott-Saintsbury ed. of Dryden, XI, 169. 

217 15. Diapason. A chord including all notes. Cf. The Faery 
Qtteen, ii. 9. 22, Dryden's avowed source. 

217 17. Jubal struck the chorded shell. There is apparently here 
some confusion between Biblical and classical story. 

218 52. Her organ. St. Ceciha is said to have invented the organ. 
218 63. Untune the sky. Mr. Saintsbury remarks : "I do not 

understand ' untune.' " Is not Dryden's meaning the following : Con- 
cord is conceived as the power which has created the w'orld in its per- 
fection from the ground note to the last, thus completing the diapason. 
Correspondingly the untuning of the spheres, with the return to the dis- 
cord of chaos, is conceived as taking place when the trumpet blast of 
the resurrection shall be heard announcing that "the dead shall live, 
the living die." Professor Kittredge suggests : " The untuning of the 
spheres is the same as the destruction of the world — the spheres 
cease to be tuneful because they cease to exist." 

219. King Arthur was an opera, the music (which was much 
admired) by the celebrated Dr. Purcell. See Burney's History of 
Music, III, 492. 

219. No, No, Poor Suffering Heart. The music of this song is to 
be found in D'Urfey's Pills to Purge Melaitcholy. Mr. Saintsbury 
remarks upon it : " The verse [of Cleomenes'\ is often exquisite, and the 
song Noy No, Poor Suffering Heart ... is in itself a triumphant refuta- 
tion of those who deny passion and tenderness in poetry to Dryden ; 
but for a few turns of phrase, the best name of the Jacobean age might 
have signed it" (Scott's Dryden, VIII, 212). 

220. The Miscellanies of Dryden were collections of poetry by 
various waiters, sometimes of pieces w^hich had already appeared else- 
where. The First Miscellany was published in 1684, the Second in 
the next year. It is interesting to notice that some of the most notable 
writers of the next age made their debut in this irregular periodical. 
Dryden contributed to the Fou7-th Miscellany in 1694. 



286 NOTES. 

221. Matthew Prior, for years an able and useful diplomatist, held 
many offices of political importance under William and Anne, the 
most important being that of minister plenepotentiary to the Court of 
France. Some still profess to admire his epic Solomon^ others find 
it unreadable. Prior's occasional verse is nearly the best of his age ; 
his shorter lyrical poems have earned for him, not altogether unde- 
servedly, the title, the English Horatian. 

221. Poems, etc. The ed. of 1709 seems to have been the first 
genuine publication of Prior's poems. There had been an unauthorized 
edition bearing a similar title in 1707. I am not able to say which of 
my selections first appeared therein. 

221. A Song. I assign this song to about the year 1693, as it 
immediately precedes the Hymn to Dr. Piircell, which is dated 1693- 
1694. The arrangement of the collected editions of Prior seems 
roughly chronological. 

222. Love Triumphant was Dryden's last drama. It was not a 
success. 

222 27. In only thee. In thee alone. Cf. 190 7, 8. 

223 1. The merchant, to secure his treasure. This "ode" pre- 
cedes the famous Ode on the Taking of Nanioiir, which bears date 
1695. 

223 4. Chloe. Some old gossip as to Prior's Chloe will be found 
in Rimbault, Fly Leaves, p. 6. 

224 11. Fantastic. Capricious. 

225. George Granville was a dramatist and late disciple of Waller, 
by whom he was praised. Owing to his espousal of the cause of James, 
he lived in literary retirement during the reign of V/ilUam, emerging 
into public life with the accession of Queen Anne. Myra was the 
Countess of Newburgh. " As he wrote verses to her ladyship," says 
Dr. Johnson gruflfly, "before he was twenty, he may be forgiven if he 
regarded the face more than the mind." Pope dedicated Windsor 
Forest to Lord Lansdowne. Cf. verses 291-298. 

225. William Congreve started life with a divided ambition — to 
become a Uterary man and to be " the first gentleman of his age," as 
an old phrase puts it. He achieved a substantial success in both, 
giving up the former for the latter about the year 1700. Congreve's 
literary reputation rests upon his sparkling dramas. In his lyrics, 
which are very few, he combines much of the grace of the earlier age 
with the precision of the age to come. 

226. The Secular Masque was an entertainment to commemorate 
what the author was pleased to consider the beginning of a new cen- 



NOTES. 287 

tury ; it was really the beginning of the hundredth year. The original 
music Malone believes to have been by Purcell. It was later set by 
Dr. Boyce and revived at Drury Lane, 1749. ^t both performances the 
Masque w'as a success, the Hunting Song was long especially popular. 

226 4. Wexing. Waxing. 

227 5. Course. Chase. 



INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITORS. 



Navies printed in Roman letters de7iote anthors ; those in italics, editors ; the dates 
^following are those of birth, earliest authorship, and death. When the editor is 
unkno7vn, MS. or other source is given. Original titles are printed in Roman ; those 
assigned by others tJian the author, in italics ; Jirst lines are put in quotation m.arks. 



Behn, Aphara (1640 — 1666 ? — 1689) : page 

Song, ' Love in fantastic triumph sat ' 200 

The Charm for Constancy 214 

' O love! that stronger art than wine' 215 

Brathwaite, Richard (1588 ? — 161 1 — 1673) '• 

Mounting Hyperboles 25 

Thentista's Reproof 48 

Broad-sheet : 

Lord Strafford's Meditations in the Tower 104 

Brome, Alexander (1620 — 1653 — 1666): 

The Resolve 182 

A Mock Song 182 

Brome, Richard (? — 1623 — 1652 ?) : 

Humility 24 

The Merry Beggars 103 

Carew, Thomas (1598? — ? — 1639?): 

The Marigold 43 

The Spring 6;^ 

Persuasions to Love 64 

A Cruel Mistress 66 

Mediocrity in Love rejected 6y 

To my Inconstant Mistress 68 

Persuasions to Joy 68 

A Deposition from Love ^. 69 



290 INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITORS. 

Carew, Thomas : page 

Celia singing 70 

To T. H., a Lady Resembling his Mistress 70 

In the Person of a Lady to her Inconstant Servant . . . . 72 

Epitaph on Lady Mary Wentworth 73 

Song, ' Ask me no more ' 74 

Murdering Beauty 75 

Cartwright, William (1611 — 1630? — 1643): 

To Cupid 94 

Venus 94 

To Chloe 95 

A Valediction 96 

Love but One 97 

Christ Church MS. : 

To Time 4 

CoNGREVE, William (1670 — 1690 — 1729): 

Song, * See, see, she wakes ' 225 

Amoret 226 

Cotton, Charles {1630 — 1649 — 1687) : 

Ode, ' The day is set ' 171 

Ode, ' Fair Isabel ' 172 

The Morning Quatrains 207 

Rondeau 210 

Song, * Why, dearest, shouldst thou weep ' 210 

Les Amours ...., 211 

Song, ' Join once again ' 212 

To Celia, Ode 212 

Laura sleeping 213 

Cowley, Abraham (1618 — 1633 — 1667): 

A Vote 59 

Ode VI, Upon the Shortness of Man's Life 60 

The Inconstant 127 

The Chronicle , 173 

Anacreontique II, Drinking 176 

Crashaw, Richard (1613? — 1634 — 1649): 

Wishes to his Supposed Mistress 99 

A Hymn of the Nativity 113 

On the Assumption of the Virgin Mary 117 



INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITORS. 291 

Crashaw, Richard : page 

Love's Horoscope 120 

A Song, ' Lord, when the sense of thy sweet grace ' . . . .140 

Davenant, Sir William (1606 — 1618 — 1668) : 

Song, Against Woman's Pride 183 

Song, ' The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest ' 184 

Dekker, Thomas (1570? — 1598 — 1641 ?) : 

Country Glee 2 

Cast away Care 4 

Song of the Cyclops 14 

Dorset, Charles Sackville, Earl of (1638 — 1663? — 1706) : 

On a Lady who fancied herself a Beauty 201 

Song, ' Phyllis, for shame ' 202 

Dryden, John (1631 — 1649 — 1700) : 

Incantation 187 

Song, 'Ah, fading joy ' 188 

' You pleasing dreams of love ' 193 

* You charmed me not ' 194 

* Can life be a blessing ' 201 

' Farewell, ungrateful traitor ' 203 

Song, betwixt a Shepherd and a Shepherdess 204 

A Song, for Saint Cecilia's Day 216 

* Fairest isle, all isles excelling ' 219 

' No, no, poor suffering heart ' 219 

A Song, to a Fair Young Lady 220 

Song of Jealousy 222 

Hunting Song 226 

Egerton MS. : 

' We must not part ' 19 

' Stay, stay, old Time ' 19 

Etheridge, Sir George (1635? — 1664 — 1691) : 

Song, ' Ladies, though to your conquering eyes ' 186 

To a Lady 199 

A Song, 'Ye happy swains ' 199 

Flatman, Thomas (1637 — 1659 — 1688) : 

For Thoughts 179 

A Wish 181 

The Defiance 198 



292 INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITORS. 

Fletcher, Phineas (1582 — 1627? — 1650) : page 

To the Soul 142 

Ford, John (1586 — 1606 — 1639?): 

Fly hence, Shadows 7 

A Bridal Song 7 

Song, ' O no more, no more ' 8 

Dirge 8 

FoRDE, Thomas (? — 1647 — 1660 ?) : 

The Busy Man is Free 135 

GoFFE, Thomas (1591 — 1620 — 1629) : 

Sylvia's Bower 9 

Graham, James, see Montrose. 

Granville, George, see Lansdowne. 

Habington, William (1605 — 1634 — 1654): 

To Roses, in the Bosom of Castara 29 

Upon Castara's Departure 30 

To Castara in a Trance 30 

Against them that lay Unchastity to the Sex of Woman . . 31 

To the World 36 

Nox nocti indicat scientiam 85 

His Mistress Flouted 86 

Harrington, Henry (?) : 

Song, ' Trust the form of airy things ' 178 

Hausted, Peter (? — 1631 — 1645) '• 

' Have pity, Grief ' 28 

Herbert, George (1593 — 1612 — 1633): 

The Altar 32 

Easter Wings 32 

Employment 33 

Virtue 34 

The Quip 34 

Frailty 35 

Herrick, Robert (1591 — 1616? — 1674) : 

To Dianeme 9 

Corinna 's Going A-Maying 10 

Night Piece, to Julia 12 

To Electra 13 



INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITORS. 293 

Herrick, Robert : page 

A Hymn to Love i-i 

Upon a Maid 20 

An Ode for Ben Jonson 62 

Delight in Disorder 75 

To Laurels 76 

To the Virgins, to make Much of Time 76 

To the Western Wind 77 

To Primroses 77 

To Anthea 78 

To Meadows 79 

To Daffodils 80 

To Blossoms 80 

His Grange, or Private Wealth 81 

To Death 82 

A Thanksgiving to God for his House 83 

His Winding-Sheet 90 

To Perilla 136 

Upon the Loss of his Mistresses 137 

His Poetry his Pillar 137 

Jonson, Ben (1573 — i595— 1637) : 

The Shepherds' Holiday i 

Hymn, To Pan 2 

Perfect Beauty 16 

KiLLEGREW, Sir William (1606 — ? — 1695) • 

Song, * Come, come, thou glorious object ' 185 

King, Henry (1592 — ? — 1669) : 

Sonnet, ' Tell me no more ' 177 

Lansdowne, Lord (1667 — 1688 — 1735) '• 

Song, 'The happiest mortals once were we' 225 

Lovelace, Richard (1618 — 1635 ~ 1658) : 

To Lucasta, going beyond the Seas . 131 

Song, To Lucasta, on going to the Wars 132 

Song, ' Amarantha, sweet and fair ' 133 

The Scrutiny 133 

To Althea from Prison 134 

Mabbe, James (1572 — 1623 — 1642) : 

' Now sleep, and take thy rest ' 25 

Waiting 25 



294 INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITORS. 

Marvell, Andrew (1621 — ? — 1678): page 

The Coronet 150 

Bermudas 151 

Clorinda and Damon 152 

A Dialogue between Thyrsis and Dorinda 154 

The Fair Singer 157 

To his Coy Mistress 158 

The Picture of Little T. C 159 

The Mower to the Glow- Worms 161 

The Mower's Song 161 

Making Hay-Ropes 162 

Massinger, Philip (1583 — 1611? — 1640): 

Death invoked 23 

Mat, Thomas (1595 — 1620 — 1650) : 

Lovers Prime 5 

Mayne, Jasper (1604 — 1630 — 1672) : 

Time is the Feathered Thing 138 

Milton, John (1608 — 1623 — 1674) : 

On Time 20 

Song on May Morning 21 

An Epitaph on Shakespeare 21 

Sonnet, To the Nightingale 22 

Sonnet, On his being arrived to the Age of Twenty-Three . 23 

Song, ' O'er the smooth enamelled green ' 38 

Song, ' Nymphs and shepherds, dance no more ' 38 

Song, ' Sweet Echo ' 39 

The Spirit 'j Epilogue 42 

Sonnet, When the Assault was intended to the City . . . .113 

Sonnet, To a Virtuous Young Lady 122 

Sonnet, To the Lord General Cromwell 166 

Sonnet, On the Late Massacre in Piedmont 167 

Sonnet, On his Blindness 168 

Sonnet, On his Deceased Wife 178 

Montrose (161 2 — ? — 1650) : 

' My dear and only love ' 140 

NoRRis, John (1657 — 1682 — 17 n) : 

Hymn to Darkness 205 



INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITORS. 295 

Philips, Katherine (1631 — 1651 — 1664) : page 

An Answer to Another persuading a Lady to Marriage . . . 184 

Porter, Walter (1595 ? — 1632 — 1659) : 

' Love in thy youth ' 27 

Disdain returned 27 

Prior, Matthew (1664 — 16S7 — 1721): 

A Song, ' In vain you tell your parting lover ' 221 

An Ode, ' The merchant, to secure his treasure ' 223 

To Chloe Weeping 223 

A Song, ' If wine and music have the power ' 224 

QuARLEs, Francis (1592 — 1620 — 1644) = 

' O whither shall I fly ? ' 53 

My Beloved is mine and I am his 55 

Randolph, Thomas (1605 — 1615? — 1635) : 

An Ode, To Master Anthony Stafford 44 

To One Admiring herself in a Looking-Glass 47 

Rochester, John Wilmot, Earl of (1648 — ? — 1680) : 

Song, ' Absent from thee I languish ' 194 

Love and Life 195 

Upon drinking in a Bowl 196 

Constancy 197 

A Song, ' My dear mistress has a heart ' 197 

Sackville, Charles, see Dorset. 

Sandys, George (1578 — 161 5 — 1644) : 

Deo Optimo Maximo 56 

Sedley, Sir Charles (1639? — 1688? — 1701) : 

To a very Young Lady 188 

Constancy 189 

* Love still has something of the sea ' 190 

Phyllis Knotting 191 

' Phyllis is my Only Joy ' 192 

A Song, ' Phyllis, men say that all my vows ' 192 

Sherburne, Sir Edward (1618 — 1648 — 1702) : 

The Vow 163 

Weeping and Kissing 164 



296 INDEX OF AUTHORS AXD EDITORS. 

Sherburne, Sir Edward: page 

Novo Inamoramento 164 

The Sweetmeat 164 

Change Defended 165 

The Fountain 165 

Shirley, James (1596 — 161S — 1666) : 

Love's Hue and Cry 6 

Peace restored 87 

Song of the Nuns 88 

N'o Armor against Fate 89 

Good Morrow 125 

Fie on Love 126 

Death'' s Subtle Ways 167 

Stanley, Thomas (1625 — 1647 — 167S) : 

The Tomb 129 

The Relapse 130 

Celia Singing 131 

Suckling, Sir John (1609 — ? — 1642): 

' Why so pale and wan, fond lover ? ' 61 

True Love 61 

Sonnet, ' Dost see how unregarded ' 107 

Song, ' I prithee spare me ' 107 

The Siege 108 

Song, ' Honest lover whatsoever ' no 

Constancy in 

Song, * I prithee send ' 112 

Townsend, Aurelian (? — ? — 1643) '■ 

Mercury Complaining 26 

Vaughan, Henry (1622 — 1646 — 1695) • 

To Amoret, gone from Home 126 

The Retreat 143 

Peace .* 144 

Love, and Discipline 145 

The World 145 

The Hidden Flower 147 

Departed Friends 169 

The Throne 170 



INDEX OF AUTHORS AXD EDITORS. 297 

Waller, Edmund (1605 — 1629 ? — 16S7) : page 

Song, ' Stay, Phoebus, stay ' i 

To my Young Lady Lucy Sidney 49 

On the Friendship betwixt Saccharisfa and Amorct ... 50 

To Amoret 55 

To Phyllis 123 

On a Girdle 123 

To Flavia 124 

On the Rose 125 

Of the Last Verses in the Book 216 

WiLMOT, John, see Rochester. 

Wilson, Dr. John : 

The ExposUilatiojt 16 

Loz'e's Idolatry iS 

Love -with Eyes and Heart iS 

Wither, George (15SS — 161 2 — 1667) '■ 

A Rocking Hymn 91 

Wit 'j- Recreations : 

The Sad Lover 9S 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



PAGE 

Absent from thee I languish 

still 194 

A funeral stone 76 

Ah, Ben 62 

Ah, Chloris, that I now could 

sit 188 

Ah, fading joy ! how quickly 

art thou past 187 

Ah, my Perilla ! dost thou 

grieve to see 136 

A kiss I begged : but smiling 

she 164 

All my past life is mine no 

more 195 

Amarantha, sweet and fair . 133 
And here the precious dust is 

laid 73 

And yet anew entangled, see . 164 
Ask me no more where Jove 

bestow's 74 

Ask not the cause, why sullen 

spring 220 

A sweet disorder in the dress 75 
Avenge, O Lord, thy slaugh- 
tered saints, whose bones . 167 

Be not too proud, imperious 
dame 198 

Bid me not go where neither 
suns nor showers .... 06 



PAGE 

Bid me to live, and I will 
live 78 

Brave iron, brave hammer, 
from your sound . . . . 14 

By my life I vow 163 

Can life be a blessing . . . 201 

Captain or colonel, or knight 
in arms 113 

Cast away care, he that loves 
sorrow 4 

Come, come ; away ! the 
spring 103 

Come, come, thou glorious 
object of my sight . , .185 

Come, shepherds, come, im- 
pale your brows .... 9 

Come thou, who art the wine 
and W'it 90 

Come, we shepherds whose 
blest sight 113 

Comforts lasting, loves in- 
creasing 7 

Cromwell, our chief of men, 
who through a cloud . .166 

Damon, come drive thy flocks 
this way 152 

Dear, do not your fair beauty 
wrong 5 



299 



300 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



PAGE 

Dorinda's sparkling wit and 

eyes 201 

Dost see liow unregarded now 107 

Ev'n like two little bank-divid- 
ing brooks 55 

Fair Amoret is gone astray . 226 
Fair copy of my Celia's face . 70 
Fair daffodils, we weep to see 80 
Fairest isle, all isles excelling 219 
Fair Isabel, if aught but thee 172 
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree 80 
Fair! that you may truly 

know 51 

Fancy and 1 last evening 

walked 126 

Farewell, ungrateful traitor . 202 
Fine young folly, though you 

were 86 

Fly, envious Time, till thou 

run out thy race .... 20 
Fly hence, shadows, that do 

keep 7 

Fond Love, no more . . .135 

Fond soul is this 142 

Forbear, bold youth ; all 's 

heaven here 184 

Forbear, fair Phillis, O forbear 2 1 o 
Forsake me not so soon ; Cas- 

tara stay 30 

From harmony, from heavenly 

harmony 216 

Gather ye rosebuds while ye 
may 76 

Get up, get up for shame, the 
blooming morn . . . . 10 

Give me more love, or more 
disdain 67 



PAGE 

Glories, pleasures, pomps, de- 
lights, and ease .... 8 

Go, empty joys 104 

Go, lovely rose 125 

Good morrow unto her who 

in the night 125 

Greedy lover, pause awhile . 16 

Had we but world enough 
and time 158 

Hail, thou most sacred vener- 
able thing 205 

Happy those early days, when 

i 143 

Hark ! she is called, the part- 
ing hour is come . . .117 
Have pity. Grief; I cannot 

pay 28 

Haymakers, rakers, reapers, 

and mowers 2 

Hears not my Phyllis how 

the birds 191 

Here she lies, in bed of spice 20 
Her eyes the glow-worm lend 

thee 12 

Honest lover whatsoever . .110 
How soon hath Time, the 

subtle thief of youth ... 23 

I cannot change, as others do 197 
I dare not ask a kiss ... 13 
If the quick spirits in your 

eye 68 

If to be absent were to 

be 131 

If wine and music have the 

power 224 

I have lost, and lately, these . 137 
I '11 gaze no more on that be- 
witched face ... -75 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



301 



PAGE 

I never yet could see that 

face 127 

In Love's name you are 

charged hereby .... 6 
In vain you tell your parting 

lover 221 

I prithee send me back my 

heart 112 

I prithee spare me, gentle 

boy 107 

Iris, to keep my soul entire 

and true 214 

I saw Eternity the other night 145 
It is not, Celia, in our power 199 
It was a beauty that I saw . 16 
I walked the other day to 

spend my hour . . . .147 
I was foretold, your rebel sex 69 
I will confess 13 

Join once again, my Celia, 
join 212 

Ladies, though to your con- 
quering eyes 186 

Lady, that in the prime of 
earliest youth 122 

Leave, fairest, leave, I pray no 
more 165 

Lord, thou hast given me a 
cell 83 

Lord, when the sense of thy 
sweet grace 140 

Love, brave Virtue's younger 
brother 120 

Love in fantastic triumph sat 200 

Love in thy youth, fair maid ; 
be wise 27 

Love still has something of 
the sea 190 



Margarita first possessed . .173 
Mark that swift arrow how it 

cuts the air 60 

Methought I saw my late es- 
poused saint 178 

My dear and only love, I pray 140 

My dear mistress has a heart 197 
My mind was once the true 

survey 161 

My soul, there is a country . 144 

No, no, poor suffering heart, 

no change endeavor . . .219 
Nor Love nor Fate dare I 

accuse 24 

Not, Celia, that I juster am . 1S9 
Not to the hills where cedars 

move 181 

Now fie on love ! it ill befits . 1 26 
Now sleep, and take thy rest 25 
Now that winter 's gone, the 

earth hath lost 63 

Now the bright morning star, 

day's harbinger .... 21 

O Chloe, why wish you that 

your years 95 

O fly, my soul ! what hangs 

upon 88 

Of Pan we sing, the best of 

singers. Pan 2 

O love that stronger art than 

wine 215 

O nightingale, that on yon 

bloomy spray 22 

Only a little more • . . . \y] 
O, no more, no more, too late 8 
O thou who all things hast of 

nothing made 56 

O turn away those cruel eyes 130 



302 



INDEX OF FIRST II NFS. 



Out upon it, I have loved . . 1 1 1 
O whither shall I fly? what 
path untrod 53 

Phyllis, for shame ! let us im- 
prove 202 

Phyllis is my only joy . . . 192 

Phyllis, men say that all my 

vows 192 

Phyllis, why should we delay 123 

Read in these roses the sad 
story 72 

Roses in breathing forth their 
scent 131 

See, see, she wakes, Sabina 

wakes 225 

See these two little brooks 

that slowly creep .... 97 
See, whilst thou weep'st, fair 

Chloe, see 223 

See with what simplicity . .159 
She that I pursue, still flies 

me 211 

Since in a land not barren 

still 145 

Skin more pure than Ida's 

snow 25 

Stay, Phoebus, stay .... 5 
Stay, stay, old Time ! repose 

thy restless wings . ... 19 
Stranger, whoe'er thou art, 

that stoop'st to taste . . 165 
Sweet baby sleep ; what ails 

my dear 91 

Sweet, be not proud of those 

two eyes 9 

Sweet western wind, whose 

luck it is 77 



PAGE 

Tell me, lovely, loving pair . 50 
Tell me no more how fair she 

is 177 

Tell me not of a face that 's 

fair 182 

Tell me not, sweet, I am un- 
kind 132 

Tell me, Thyrsis, tell your an- 
guish 204 

That which her slender waist 

confined 123 

The day is set, did earth 

adorn 171 

The glories of our blood and 

state 89 

The happiest mortals once 

were we 225 

The lark now leaves his wat'ry 

nest 184 

The merchant, to secure his 

treasure 223 

The thirsty earth soaks up the 

rain 176 

They are all gone into the 

world of light 169 

Think not 'cause men flatt'ring 

say 64 

Think'st thou that this love 

can stand 162 

This only grant me, that my 

means may lie 59 

Thou bidd'st me come away . 82 
Thou gav'st me late to 

eat 164 

Though clock 81 

Thoughts! what are they . . 179 
Thou, who didst never see the 

light 94 

Thus, thus begin the yearly 

rites I 



INDEX OF FIRST II NFS. 



303 



Time is the feathered thing . 

'T is not your beauty can en- 
gage 

'T is now since I sat down 
before 

'T is true, I never was in 
love 

To make a final conquest of 
all me 

Trust the form of airy things 

Venus, redress a wrong that 's 

done 

Victorious men of earth, no 

more 

Victorious Time, whose 

winged feet do fly ... 
Vows are vain ; no suppliant 

breath 

Vulcan, contrive me such a 

cup 

We must not part, as others 

do 

We read of kings and gods 

that kindly took .... 
What makes me so unnimbly 

rise 

What need my Shakespeare 

for his honored bones . . 
What state of life can be so 

blest 

When, Celia, must my old 

days set 

When, cruel fair one, I am 

slain 

When death shall snatch us 

from these kids .... 
When for the thorns with 

which I long, too long . . 



I3» 
124 
108 
182 

157 
178 

94 

167 

4 

30 
196 

19 
66 
26 



212 
129 

154 
150 



PAGE 

When I behold my mistress' 

face 18 

When I consider how my light 

is spent 168 

When I survey the bright . 85 
When Love with unconfined 

wings 134 

When on mine eyes her eyes 

first shone 18 

When on the altar of my 

hand 72 

When thou, poor excommu- 
nicate 68 

When we for age could 

neither read nor write . .216 
When with these eyes, closed 

now by thee 170 

Where the remote Bermudas 

ride 151 

Whoe'er she be 99 

Why art thou slow, thou rest 

of trouble. Death .... 23 
Why came I so untimely 

forth 49 

Why, dearest, shouldst thou 

weep when I relate . . .210 
Why dost thou seem to boast, 

vainglorious sun . . . .183 
Why do ye weep, sweet 

babes ? Can tears . . . yj 
Why should I wrong my judg- 
ment so 98 

Why shouldst thou swear I 

am forsworn 133 

Why so pale and wan, fond 

lover 61 

Winds, whisper gently whilst 

she sleeps 213 

With horns and hounds I 

waken the day .... 226 



304 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



PAGE 

Ye blushing virgins happy 

are 29 

Ye happy swains, whose hearts 

are free 199 

Ye have been fresh and green 79 
Ye living lamps, by whose 

dear light 161 

You charmed me not with 

that fair face 194 



PAGE 

You pleasing dreams of love 
and sweet delight . . . .193 

You that think love can con- 
vey 70 

You twice ten hundred dei- 
ties 1S7 

You virgins, that did late de- 
spair 87 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



Abbott, Dr., Shakespearcaii Gram- 
mar, 229, 232, et passim. 

Abdelazer, 282. 

yElian, 261. 

Age of repression, The, Ixiii. 

Aglaura, 251. 

Albiofi's Triumph, 239. 

Amorous War, The, 263. 

Anacreon, 276, 281. 

Anglican Catholic approval of art, 
xlv, liii. 

Anne, Queen, xxxiii, Ix, 281, 286. 

Arber, Professor, ed. of Putten- 
ham, xxvii ; of Castara, 240 ; 
English Garner, 235, 241, 260. 

Arcades, 242, 246 ; quoted, xvii. 

Arcadian Princess, The, 247. 

Argonautica, 235. 

Arnold, Matthew, Ixii. 

Art and Morals, Divorce of, ix-xi. 

Ashton's Social Life in the Reign 
of Queen Anne, 281. 

Bacon, Lord, xxvii, xliii, 241, 250. 

Bagehot, Walter, xi. 

Barnes, Barnabe, xlvii. 

Beaumont, Francis, 247, 268, 277. 

Beaumont, Sir John, xii. 

Bede, xlii. 

Behn, Aphara, Ixviii, 282, 284. 



Beloe's Anecdotes of Literature, 

267. 
Biblical paraphrases in verse, xlvii. 
Biographica Brita^utica, 230. 
Blackmore, Sir Richard, liv. 
Brand's Popular Antiquities, 23!, 

237» 25s, 268. 
Brathwaite, Richard, 238. 
Breton, Nicholas, xlvii, 271. 
Britannia^ s Pastorals, 243. 
Broken Heart, The, 233. 
Brome, Alexander, lix, 257, 265, 

278, 279. 
Brome, Richard, xx, 238, 259. 
Browne, William, xvi, 243, 244, 

252, 254. 
Browning, Robert, Ivii. 
Bryant, William Cullen, Ixiv. 
Buckhurst, Lord, xxii. 
Bullen, Mr., More Lyrics, 230 ; 

238, 239, 247 ; Musa Proterva, 

260, 277, 284 ; ed. of Davison's 

Poetical Rhapsody, 266 ; 274, 

278, 280. 
Bunyan, John, Iviii. 
Burnet, Bishop, quoted, 280. 
Burney's History of Music, 285. 
Burns, 253. 
Butler, Samuel, 282. 
Byron, Lord, xiii. 



305 



306 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



Caedmon, xlii. 

Campbell, Thomas, 248, 27S. 

Campion, Thomas, xlii, 233, 244, 

253' 259- 

Careless Shepherdess, The, 233, 
265. 

Carew, Thomas, xi ; quoted, xii, 
xxxiv ; xiii, xv, xxii, xxiii, xxvii, 
xxxiii ; contrasted with Herrick, 
xxxiv-xlii ; his religious lyrics, 
xxxiv ; occasional verse, xxxv ; 
a poet of the court, xxxvi ; re- 
served temper, xxxvii; vers de 
societe, xxxix ; his trochaic octo- 
syllabics, xlii ; xlv, lii, Ixiv, Ixv, 
Ixvii ; authorship confused with 
Shirley, 231, 232; 235,236,240, 
241, 246, 249, 252, 253, 260, 
262, 266, 267, 279. 

Carey, Lucius, Lord Falkland, 
xxi, xxiii. 

Carlyle, Thomas, Ixiii. 

Carmen Deo Nostra, 268. 

Cartwright, William, xxii, xxiii, 
xxxiii, Iv, lix, Ixv, 249, 257, 266, 
280. 

Castara, xxii, 1, 240. 

Catullus, xiii, 234. 

Celestina, 239. 

Chalmers's English Poets, 265, 273, 
276, 279. 

Charles I, xiv, xv, et passim. 

Charles II, Iviii, Ixii, et passim. 

Cheerful Airs and Ballads, 235. 

Child, Dr. Clarence G., xxvii, 
xxviii. 

Child, Professor F. J., English and 
Scottish Popular Ballads, 229. 

Cicero, 248. 

Classicism, x, xviii, xix, Ix-lxiii; 
assimilative, empirical, and re- 



strictive, xxxiii ; of Carew and 
Herrick, xxxv ; theories as to 
the origin of, Ix. 

Claudian, 251. 

Cleodora, 256. 

Cleomenes, 285. 

Clieveland, John, xxii; quoted, 
xxix, xli ; lix. 

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 276. 

Collection of Poems, A, Lans- 
downe, 2S6. 

Collier, J. P., 246. 

Comedies, Tragi- Co?}iedies, and 
Other Poems, Cartwright, 257. 

Comns, xvii, 243, 244, 246, 271. 

Conceit, The Seventeenth Century 
fondness for, xxvii ; early use 
by Sidney, xxviii ; illustrations 
of, xxix, xxxiii, xli; varieties of, 
xxix ; not wholly referable to 
Donne, xxx ; Donne's use of, 
and Crashaw's distinguished, 
xxx, xxxiii; Cowley's use of, 
xxxiii, Ixiv, 231, 237, 260, 263. 

Congreve, William, quoted, Ixviii ; 
286. 

Conservative reaction in literature, 
Ix ; its value and meaning, Ixiii ; 
Ixv. 

Constable, Henry, xlvii. 

Co7itention of Ajax and Ulysses, 
The, 256. 

Corbet, Richard, 277. 

Cota, Rodrigo, 239. 

Cotton, Charles, xv, xl, lix ; his 
debt to Carew and Walton, Ixiv; 
23i» 251, 275, 276, 279, 283. 

Cowley, Abraham, xxiii, xxv, xxvi, 
xxvii-xxix ; quoted, xxxiii ; lii, 
liv ; long career, Ix ; great re- 
pute, Ixiv ; eclecticism, ib.\ rela- 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



307 



tion to Donne, ib.-, Ixv, 231, 
247, 250, 251, 265, 276, 283. 

Crashaw, Richard, xv ; quoted, 
xxxi ; his use of conceit con- 
trasted with Donne's, xxxi- 
xxxiii; xlv, xlvii ; at Cambridge, 
11; artistic and devotional tem- 
per, ib. ; goes over to Rome, lii ; 
rhapsodic nature of his poetry, 
ib., liii; liv, Ivii, Ix, Ixv, 237, 250, 
258, 259, 261, 263, 268, 269, 279. 

Criticism, Eighteenth Century, of 
conceit, xxiv. 

Cromwell, Oliver, 272-274. 

Ctipid and Death, 274. 

Darwin, Erasmus, 231. 

Davenant, Sir William, xxiii, 
xxxiii, xxxvi, Ixiv, 246, 262, 279, 
282. 

Dekker, Thomas, xx, xxiii, 229, 
230. 

Delights of the Muses, The, li, 263. 

Denham, Sir John, Ixiv. 

De Quincey, Thomas, quoted, xiii ; 
xxvii, xxxiii. 

Donne, John, xi, xv ; character of 
his poetry, xix, xxiii ; xxii ; his 
imitators, xxiii ; xxiv, xxv ; con- 
tempt for form, xxiv ; his satires, 
xxvi ; xxvii; quoted, xxx; use 
of conceit, xxx, xxxi ; contrasted 
with Crashaw^, xxxii ; xxxiv- 
xxxvi, Ivii, Ixv, Ixvi, 231, 232, 
235, 237, 240, 241, 251, 257, 258, 
262, 263, 265-267, 277, 

Dorset, Earl of, xxii, xxv, Ixviii, 
280, 282. 

Dowden, Professor, 231. 

Drayton, Michael, xvi, Ixv, 232, 
244, 245, 247, 252, 261. 



Drummond, William, Ixvii, 244. 

Drury, Mr., his ed. of Waller, 
quoted, 247, 248, 284; 264, 265 ; 
his life of Katherine Philips, 
quoted, 280. 

Dryden, John, xiii; quoted, xxv, 
xxvi, xxix ; xxvii ; practice of 
devotional poetry, liv ; range of 
subject contrasted with Jonson 
and Pope, Ixi ; follows Jonson 
in the employment of occasional 
verse, satire, and criticism, ib. ; 
his lyrics, ib., Ixii, Ixviii; Ixiv- 
Ixvi, 231, 242, 249, 271, 280-283, 
285, 286. 

Duke of Gtiise, The, 283. 

D'Urfey, Tom, xx, 285. 

Dyce, A., ed. of Shirley, 232, 236. 

Egerton MS., 235. 

Elizabethan literature. Nature of, 

ix ; contrasted with Seventeenth 

Century literature, ix, x. 
Elizabethan Lyrics, A Book of, ix, 

229, 233, 240, 247, 256, 260, 279. 
Elizabeth, Queen, ix.,-x.\\,et passim. 
Emblems Divine and Moral, xlix, 

248, 249, 258. 
Emperor of the East, The, 238. 
English Gentlewoman, The, 238. 
Etheridge, Sir George, 280. 
Euripides, 261, 277. 
Evelyn, John, 282. 
Evening's Love, An, 281. 

Faery Queen, The, xviii, 243, 245, 

246, 285. 
Fairfax, Edward, Ixv, Ixvii, 274. 
Fairfax, Lord, 270, 273. 
Faithful Shepherdess, The, 243, 

245- 



308 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



Fathe7-''s Testament, A, 269. 
Fenton's Walk}-, 230, 231, 248, 265. 
Ferrar, Nicholas, xlvi, li, 241. 
Flatman, Thomas, Ixvii, 277, 278. 
Fleay, Mr. F. G., 229, 230, 256. 
Fletcher, Dr. Giles, xvi, 269. 
Fletcher, Dr. Joseph, 269. 
Fletcher, Giles, the younger, 269. 
Fletcher, John, xx, 238, 243, 245, 

253, 268, 269. 
Fletcher, Phineas, xvi, 269. 
Ford, John, xx, xxii, 229, 230, 232, 

233- 
Forde, Thomas, 268. 
Fragmenta Aiirea, 260. 

Gascoigne, George, quoted, xxviii ; 
xliii. 

Gifford's Shirley, 232. 

Goffe, Thomas, xx, 233, 265. 

Gosse, Mr., From Shakespeare to 
Pope, Ix, Ixiv, 230, 248, 265 ; 
239, 265 ; Eighteejith Century 
Literature, Ix, Ixiv, Ixvi. 

Graham, James. See Montrose. 

Granville, George. See Lans- 
downe. 

Gray, Thomas, 237. 

Greene, Robert, xxiii, 252, 268, 
271. 

Grosart, Dr., his ed. of Herrick, 
xxii, xxxv, 234, 254 ; of Herbert, 
liii; Vaughan, Iv, 270, 275; 
Sylvester, 241 ; Cowley, 247, 
251; Quarles, 248, 249; Greene, 
252 ; Crashaw, 259, 262 ; Fuller 
Worthies'' Miscellanies, 260, 
283; Marvell, 271; 276. 

Habington, William, xxii, xxiii, 1, 
Iviii, 239, 240. 



Hale, Professor E. E., Jr., his ed. of 
Herrick, Iv, 233-235, 252, 254, 
256, 261, 263. 

Halehdah, 256. 

Hales, Professor, xxv. 

Hallam, Henry, 277. 

Hannah, Dr., ed. of Raleigh, 260; 
Courtly Poets, 268. 

Harrington, Henry, 277. 

Hausted, Peter, 239. 

Hawkins's History of Music, 243. 

Hazlitt, Mr. W. C., ed. of Carew, 
xxii, 232, 246, 253 ; Herrick, 
235 ; Randolph, 247. 

Hazlitt, William, xiii. 

Henrietta Maria, Queen, 231, 250, 
258. 

Herbert, George, xv, xxiii, xxxiii, 
xlv ; delivery of his Temple, 
xlvi ; xlvii ; his popularity, 1 ; li ; 
purity of spirit, Puritanism and 
self-restraint, lii; contrasted with 
Crashaw, ib.\ quoted, liii; 241, 
242, 262, 269. 

Herrick, Robert, xi, xiii, xv, xxii ; 
quoted, xxiii, xxxvii, xl, xli ; 
contrasted with Carew, xxxiv- 
xlii ; his religious lyrics, xxxiv, 
xlv, liii ; love of nature, xxxv, 
xxxvi ; occasional verse, xxxvi ; 
Hedonism, xxxviii ; constructive 
excellence, xiii ; metrical invent- 
iveness, ib.; lii, Ivi, 233, 234, 
235, 240, 247, 252, 254, 255, 258, 
261, 264, 268, 270, 279. 

Hesiod, 244. 

Hesperides, 233, 252, 254, 264, 268 
xi, xxxvi. 

Heywood, Thomas, xxiii. 

Hilton, John, 235. 

Holburn Drollery, 253. 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



309 



Horace, xiii, 251. 
Howard, Sir Robert, 280. 
Howell, James, xxii, xxiii, 257, 263, 

277. 
Hudibras, 282. 
Hugo, Herman, 249. 

Imposture^ The, 256. 
Indian E??iperor, The, 280. 
Indian Queen, The, 280. 
Ingelow, Jean, 249, 258. 

James I, ix, xiv, et passim. 

Johnson, Dr., his critique of 'the 
metaphysical poets,' xxiv, xxv ; 
286, xxvi, Ixiv. 

Jones, Inigo, 239. 

Jonson, Ben, xi, xv ; his manner 
in poetry, xviii-xx; his influence, 
ib.\ his classicism, xix, xxxiii; 
literary dictatorship, xxi ; the 
'sons of Ben,' xxi-xxiii, 255; 
xxxiv-xxxvi, xl, Iv; use of occa- 
sional verse, Ixi; his lyrics; ib.\ 
his influence on the subject- 
matter of later poetry, ib., 229, 
232, 235, 238, 241, 244, 252, 254, 
265, 277, 280. 

Jonsonics Virbius, xxi, xxii, 268, 277. 

Jovial Crew, The, or The Merry 
Beggars, 259. 

Juvenal, xxv, Iv, Ixii. 

Keats, xiii, xlii. 

Killegrew, Sir William, 280. 

King, Henry, Bishop, xxi, xxiii, 

xliii, lix, 277. 
King Arthur., Dryden's, 285. 
Kittredge, Professor, 242, 249, 259, 

272, 285. 
Knox, John, 242. 



Lactantius, 254. 

V Allegro, 244. 

Lansdowne, Lord, George Gran- 
ville, 286. 

Last Remains, Suckling, 261. 

Lawes, Henry, xx, 242-244, 254, 
267, 277. 

Lee, Nathaniel, 283. 

Le Gallienne, Mr., 253. 

Letters of State, 273. 

Lodge, Thomas, xlii, 271. 

London'' s Tempe, 234. 

Love in a Tnb, 280. 

Love Trinniphant, 286. 

Lovelace, Richard, xxiv, xxxiii, 
lix, 240, 266. 

Lover^s Melancholy, The, 233. 

Lover's Watch, The, 284, 

Love's Labyrinth, 268. 

Loyal Garland, The, 282. 

Lncasta, Epodcs, Odes, Sonnets, and 
Songs, 266. 

Lucky Chance, The, 284. 

Lucretius, 245. 

Lyly, John, xx, 279. 

Lyric, The seventeenth century, 
justification of the secular, xiii 
poetic influences upon the, xv- 
XX, xlii ; the secular, xxxiv-xlii 
the devotional, xlii-lix ; decline 
of the, Ixvii ; becomes conven 
tional, ib.; artificial and insin 
cere, Ixviii. 

Mabbe, James, 239. 

Magister, Thomas, 261. 

Malherbe, Ixvi. 

Manlius, 254. 

Marlowe's Lnsfs Dominion, 282. 

Marmion, Shakerley, xxi. 

Martial, Epigrams, xi, 238. 



310 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



Marvell, Andrew, xv, xl; his poetic 
period, liv ; devotional verse, 
ib.; love of nature, his religious 
pastorals, ib.\ Ivi, Iviii, lix, Ixiv, 
253, 270, 271, 272, 281. 

Massinger, Philip, xx, 238. 

Masson, Professor D., Life of 
Milton, 234, 237, 245, 246, 
277. 

May, Thomas, xx, xxi, 230. 

Mayne, Jasper, xxii, 257, 268. 

Merry Beggars, The, 259. 

' Metaphysical Poets,' The, xxiv- 
xxvi. 

Middleton, Thomas, 280. 

Milton, John, xiii ; his position as 
a world poet, xiv ; his artistic 
purpose, ib.\ Spenser's influence 
on, xvi-xviii; classical allusion, 
xvii, xviii, 244 ; scholarship, 
xviii ; religious poetry, xlii, xlvii ; 
power of artistic sincerity, ib.; 
liv, Ivi, Iviii-lxi, Ixiv, 234-238, 
242-246, 261-264, 267, 270-275, 
277, 282. 

Miscellanies of Cowley, 276 ; of 
Dryden, 285. 

Miscellany, The Devotional, xlvii. 

Miscellany, The Poetical, xx, xxi. 

Mistress, The, 265. 

Moliere, 281. 

Monk, General, 252. 

Montrose, Marquess of, lix, 268. 

More, Henry, 283. 

Morley, Professor, ed. of Herbert, 
xlvi; ed. of Peele, 267. 

Morley's First Book of Madrigals, 
252. 

Mzclberry Garden, The, 280. 

Murray, Dr., xxvii. 

Musarui7i Deliciae, 241. 



Musica Antigua, 230. 
Mysticism, Religious, Ivii. 

Napier's Montrose and the Cove- 
nanters, 268. 

Nashe, Thomas, 241, 244. 

Nature, Love of, in poetry, xiv, 
xxiii, XXXV, xl, liv, Ivi, Ixiv. 

New Inn, The, 235. 

New Miscellany of Poems, A, 282. 

Nichols, J., 229. 

Nicholson, Dr., 271, 272. 

Noble Numbers, liii, 255. 

Norris, John, Iviii, Ixvii, 283. 

Northern Lass, The, 238. 

Notes and Queries, 252, 253. 

Occasional verse, Carew's em- 
ployment of, xxxv ; Herrick's, 
xxxvi ; Jonson's, Ixi ; Dryden's 
and Pope's, Ixii; 259; Milton 
and, 273, 274. 

Old Couple, The, 230. 

Oldmixon, John, Ixviii. 

Oroonoko, 282. 

Overbury, Sir Thomas, Ixv. 

Ovid, 249, 250. 

Palgrave, Mr., quoted, 233 ; 259, 

267, 272, 283. 
Pail's Anniversary, 229. 
Parnell, Thomas, xxvi, liv. 
Pastoral, The, xvi, xxii, liv, Iv. 
Pattison, Mark, ed. of Milton's 

Sonnets, quoted, xliii, 236, 237, 

261, 263, 273, 275, 277 ; Life of 

Milton, 274. 
Peele, George, 267. 
Pepys, Samuel, 252. 
Percy, Bishop, 267. 
Persius, 280. 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



311 



Philips, Edward, 272, 273. 

Philips, Katherine, Ixviii, 279, 2S0. 

Plato, 256, 266. 

Playford, Henry, xx ; his Select 
Airs, 264 ; his Theater of Ahisic, 
284. 

Pliny, 261. 

Poems and Discourses, Norris, 
283. 

Poems and Songs, Flatman, 277. 

Poems and Translations, Stanley, 
231, 265. 

Poems both English and Latifi, 
Milton, 236, 237, 261, 263. 

Poems, Elegies, Paradoxes, and 
Sonnets, King, 277. 

Poems of Carew, xii, 246, 252; 
Philips, 279; Shirley, 231, 265; 
Waller, 247. 

Poems on Several Occasions, Cot- 
ton, 275 ; Davenant, 279; Roch- 
ester, 281 ; Prior, 286. 

Poems upon Several Occasions, 
Milton, 274 ; Waller, 247, 264. 

Poems, with the Micses'' Looking 
Glass, Randolph, 247. 

Poems, with the Teiith Satire of 
Jtivenal, Vaughan, 265. 

Poetry and prose distinguished, 
Ixii. 

Poetry, degeneracy of taste in, 
xxi, xxxiii, Ixviii, Ixix ; influence 
of Spenser, xv-xviii, of Jonson, 
viii-xix, of Donne, xix, xx ; sec- 
ular, xxxiv-xlii, religious, xlii- 
lix ; at the Restoration, lix, 
later decline of, Ixvii. 

Poets, Secular, side with the king, 
xxiii ; tribute to Jonson, xxi, 
xxii ; ' metaphysical,' xxiv, xxv ; 
' rhetorical,' xxvii ; devotional, 



not of one sect or party, Iviii ; 
of the old and new manner, Ixiv. 

Polyolbion, The, xvi, 244, 245. 

Pope, Alexander, xiii, xxvi; quoted, 
xxix; xl, liv, Ixi ; follows Jon- 
son and Dryden in . subject- 
matter, Ixii ; his plan for a his- 
tory of English poetry, Ixv ; Ixvi, 
231. 237, 238, 249, 286. 

Porter's Madrigals and Airs, 230. 

Prior, Matthew, liv, Ixviii, 234, 286. 

Propertius, 274. 

Psalms of David, Paraphrases 
upon the, xliii, 249. 

Purcell, Dr., 286, 2S7. 

Puritanism, x ; effect of, on poetry, 
xlv. 

Puttenham's Art of English Poesie, 
xxvii, 241. 

Quarles, Francis, xi, xxxiii; his 
contemporary popularity, xliv, 
xlvii ; xlv-xlvii ; contrasted with 
Wither, xlviii ; his ingenuity and 
use of conceit, xlix ; quoted, ib. ; 
248, 249, 258. 

Queen's Masque, The, 244. 

Raleigh, Sir Walter, 260. 

Randolph, Thomas, xx, xxiii, Iv, 
Ixv, 235, 246, 265. 

Religious poetry, x; of Carew, 
xxxiv ; of Herrick, ib., liii ; in- 
fluence of the Psalms on, xlii ; 
Elizabethan and Seventeenth 
Century, contrasted, xlv ; of 
Herbert, xlvi, 1 ; Milton, the 
highest exponent of, xlvii, lix; 
Biblical paraphrases, xlvii ; 
Quarles and Wither, ib., xlix ; 
Sandys, 1 ; Crashaw, li-liii ; later 



312 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



paraphrases and epics, liv ; Mar- 
veil, his religious pastorals, ib. ; 
Vaughan, Iv-lvii ; not confined 
to one sect or party, Iviii. 

Restoration, Literature at the, lix- 
Ixi, Ixiii. 

Rhetoric a basis of artistic pleas- 
ure, xiii. 

* Rhetorical poets,' The, xxvii, 
xxxiii. 

Rival Friends, The, 239. 

Rochester, Earl of, Ixviii, 281, 282, 
283. 

Rojas, Fernando de, 239. 

Rolliad, The, 284. 

Rondeau, The, 284. 

Ronsard, Pierre de, 273. 

Rossetti, Dante Gabriel, 270. 

Rota, Bernadino, 277. 

Ruff head's life of Pope, Ixv. 

Ruskin, Mr., Ixiii. 

Saintsbury, Professor, Elizabethan 
Literature, 252, 267 ; Seven- 
teenth Century Lyrics, 253, 268, 

279, 282, 284 ; ed. of Scott's 
Dryden, 283, 285. 

Sahiiasis, Lyrian and Sylvia, 272. 

Sandys, George, xxxiv, xxxvi, xliii, 
xlv ; his scriptural paraphrases, 
1, Ixv ; his formal nature, ib. ; 
alleged importance in the history 
of the heroic couplet, ib., 249. 

Scott, Sir Walter, his ed. of Dry- 
den, 280, 283, 285. 

Second Part of Mr. Waller'' s Poe?ns, 
The, 284. 

Secular Masque, The, 286. 

Sedley, Sir Charles, Ixviii, 260, 

280, 281. 
Selindra, 280. 



Seventeenth Century literature, ix- 
XV ; contrasted with Elizabethan, 
ix-xii, xlv, xlvi ; its limited 
range, xi, xiii ; fanciful character, 
xii, xxvii ; use of conceit, xxviii, 
xxxii ; secular poetry of, xxxiv- 
xlii ; devotional poetry of, xlii- 
lix. 

Shakespeare, x, xi-xiii, xx, xiii, Ixi, 
23O3 233, 234, 236, 240, 241, 243, 
245, 246, 255, 261, 262, 266, 271, 
272, 275, 279, 282, 284. 

Shelley, xiii, liii, 236, 264. 

Shepherds'' Holiday, The, 229. 

Sherburne, Sir Edward, lix, 257, 
265, 272, 273. 

Shirley, James, xx, xxii ; author- 
ship confused with Carew, 231, 
232; 247, 266. 

Sidney, Sir Philip, xxi, xxvii, 
xxxiii, xliii, 248, 259. 

Silex Scintillans, 269, 275. 

Silisio, Mariano, 247. 

Skeat, Professor, 236. 

Smith, Stafford, his Musica Anti- 
qua, 230. 

Song Books, xx. 

Songs and Other Poems, A. Brome, 
278. 

Songs of the Drama, xx. 

Sonnet, Discontinuance of the, 
xxii ; devotional sequences of 
the, xlvii ; Milton's use of the, 
xliii. 

Southey, Robert, Ixiv. 

Southwell, Robert, xlv. 

Spanish Fi'iar, The, 283. 

Spenser, Edmund, xi, xv ; his in- 
fluence, xvi-xix, xxxiii, xlv, Ixv, 
Ixvi, 236, 237, 243-246. 

Spenserianism, xv-xviii, Ixvii ; its 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



313 



influence on poetry of classic 

type, Ixvii. 
Sprat, Dr. T., Ixiv. / 

Stafford, Anthony, 246. 
Stanley, Thomas, Iv, lix, 266, 273. 
Steps to the Tefnple, li, 261, 262. 
Strafford, Earl of, 259, 260. 
Suckling, Sir John, xiii, xxiv, 

xxxiii, 246, 251, 253, 260, 267. 
Sun's Darling, The, 229. 
Swinburne, Mr., 244. 
Sylva, Cowley, 250. 
Sylvester, Joshua, 241, 243. 

Tabley, Lord de, 251. 
Temple, The, xlvi, 1, li, 241. 
Tennyson, Lord, 231, 265, 273. 
Tertullian, xliii, 274. 
Thucydides, 236. 
Townsend, Aurelian, xx, 239. 
Trench, Archbishop, 269. 
Troihis and Ores sida, Dryden, 282. 
Trumbull, W. B., ed. of Crashaw, 

237, 258, 268. 
Tupper, M. F., xliv. 
Tyrannic Love, 281. 

Ueberweg's History of Philosophy, 

xxxi. 
Ulrici, Professor, xi. 

Vaughan, Henry, xv; quoted, xxx, 
Ivi ; xxxiii, xlv, xlvii, liv ; a 
recluse, Iv ; his likeness to 
Wordsworth, ib., Ivi; love of 
nature, Ivi ; seriousness, halting 
execution, realism, ib.-, mysti- 
cism and intellectuality, Ivii; 
Iviii, lix, 255, 265, 269, 275, 279. 

Vaughan, Thomas, 265. 

Vers de societe, justification of, xii, 



xiii; defined, xxxix ; Carew and, 
ib.; Waller a follower of Carew 
in the practice of, Ixvii ; Suck- 
ling's, 251. 
Virgil, 245, 267, 273. 

Waller, Edmund, his contact with 
earlier poetry, xxii; xxiii, xxvi, 
xxxiv; indebtedness to Herrick, 
xl; quoted, xli ; devotional 
verse, liv; long career, Ix ; not 
the originator of the new poetry, 
Ixvi ; indebtedness to Carew and 
Jonson, Ixvii; real place, ib.; 
freedom of his early verse, 230 ; 
231, 247; editions of, 24S ; 250, 
264, 265. 

Walpole, Horace, 282. 

Walton, Izaak, quoted, xlvi; Ixiv, 
241, 275-277, 279. 

Ward, Professor A. W., 232, 281. 

Ward's English Poets, xxv. 

Warton, Thomas, 236, 243, 244. 

Weaver, Thomas, 267. 

Wharton, Anne, Marchioness of, 
Ixvii. 

William HI, 283, 2S6. 

Wilmot, John. See Rochester. 

Wilson, Dr. John, his Cheerful 
Airs, XX, 235, 267. 

Wilson, John, the dramatist, Ixviii. 

Wit, xxvii-xxx. 

Wither, George, xi, xvi ; contrasted 
with Quarles, xliv; his devo- 
tional miscellanies, xlvii; free- 
dom from figure, xlix ; Iviii, 241, 
249, 256, 257, 279. 

Wit''s Interpreter, 230, 267. 

Wifs Recreations, xxi, xl, 230, 233- 
235' 254, 258, 259, 264, 265, 
273- 



314 



INDEX TO INTRODUCTION AND NOTES. 



Witty Fair One, The, 231. 
Wood, Anthony a, 239, 266. 
Wood, Professor, Ix. 
Wordsworth, xliv, Ivi, 231 
269, 275, 



260, 



Works of Celebrated Authors, 283. 
Works of Congreve, 286. 
Works of Edmund Waller, 247. 
Wotton, Sir Henry, 260. 
Wyatt, Sir Thomas, xliii, 284. 



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